


A Grimm Fate

by GuestPlease



Series: Follow the Spokes of the Wheel [2]
Category: Disenchantment (TV 2018)
Genre: As in I straight up borrow some Grimm stories, Awkward Flirting, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mutual Pining, Pendergast is a Blushy Boi, Pendergast is part sidhe, Pining, The Blue Light (Grimm), The Devil Went Down To Georgia, The Devil's Sooty Brother (Grimm), dare i say, it's during/after Swamp and Circumstance so he's not as confident, mostly from Pendergast he doesn't really know how to talk to women, once again Pendergast is a devoted husband, weirdly I involve some biology concepts but also mostly not that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-08 03:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 69,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21469399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuestPlease/pseuds/GuestPlease
Summary: Pendergast needs a date to a wedding......so that he can catch a murderer. He may also be allergic to the princess, but that's neither here nor there.Bean is fine with this, but is also learning that some fairy tales are a bit darker than the ones she finds herself in. Not every princess is as lucky as her...
Relationships: Bean | Tiabeanie/Pendergast (Disenchantment)
Series: Follow the Spokes of the Wheel [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551175
Comments: 67
Kudos: 46





	1. Pendergast has friends now

Sir Pendergast had a problem.

Well, he had several problems, not least the headache pounding at his temples. The main problem that he was facing though was that even though he’d _finally_ been given permission for a certain sting operation, it was expected that he’d bring a date.

Especially since _somehow_, everyone else found one. Including Turbish! What woman would go out with _Turbish_? To be fair, not that Turbish necessarily knew what was happening. This was Pendergast’s reasoning for not asking anyone—what kind of knight would willingly put a bystander in danger? It _totally_ wasn’t because he didn’t feel comfortable around most women. …scratch that, he did feel comfortable around most women. Most women didn’t give him weird heart palpitations or challenge his beliefs. Most women weren’t the princess.

…maybe he was allergic to the princess. That was it.  
But Jesus, even Sir Mortimer the Expendable and _Mertz_ had dates, and God could strike him down if Pendergast’s heart didn’t go out to those poor women. …maybe they had hired escorts? They could, technically, be used in the sense of _escorting_ one to events… although, he had a reputation, and he certainly wasn’t going to jeopardize it asking a-a… _courtesan_ to a social event. What was he, a green boy? (No, that was the strange elf trailing Bean at all times.)

While he was deep in thought, Sir Edgar came up and clapped him on the back. “Sir, you’ll never believe it. There’s a bandit in the _Flying Sceptre_.”  
“Really?” Pendergast said. “Show me.”  
They clanked out of the courtyard, down to the bar in question. Pendergast peered through the foggy glass. “I don’t see any…”  
Sirs Edgar and Mortimer shoved him through the door. Mortimer stood outside, preventing Pendergast from fleeing before the bar’s three patrons (it was still early in the day) could notice.

They were already turning—the weird cat, the green baby elf, and…  
“Princess! Hi.” Pendergast said, before clearing his throat. “Um… I didn’t expect to find you here. Have you seen a—”  
Edgar slung an arm around Pendergast’s shoulders. “What he means is, there’s a wedding coming up.”

Pendergast immediately flushed.  
“…what?” Bean said.  
“Where is he going with this?” The elf muttered.  
“Maybe Pendergast is going to ask Bean to marry him!” The cat hooted.

Pendergast pushed Edgar’s arm off of his shoulder. “No, it’s not _my_ wedding. It’s… can I talk to you alone, princess? This is… of a sensitive nature—_Edgar_, stop making that face, or I’ll have you on latrine duty until you die of typhoid.”  
Bean tossed back her drink. “Sure, let’s talk outside.”  
Pendergast remembered Mortimer. “Or… over here’s fine.”

“So, what’s this about?” Bean crossed her arms.  
Pendergast thought about the best way to handle this. “If I gave you a knife, you could defend yourself, right?”  
“_What_?” Bean asked. “I’d expect Stryker and Bolt to mug me, but not you!”

“I’m not trying to mug you!” Pendergast said quickly, a bit too loudly.  
Edgar grimaced, and the cat started guffawing. Pendergast glared at both of them, then turned back to the princess. “I’m conducting a murder investigation. You know that rich guy who keeps getting married every so often? No word on what happened to his previous wives?”  
“Oh, he totally murders them.” Bean nodded.

Pendergast gestured. “Exactly! But he’s a rich man, so I actually need evidence. I’m going to this wedding, either to get evidence or make friends with the new wife so that he feels uncomfortable murdering her.”  
“So where do I fit into this? I’m not marrying the murder guy.” Bean frowned. “Also, why are we over here?”

Pendergast ran his tongue over his teeth, before deciding on honesty. “As of right now, only three people know about the true purpose of me going to the wedding. You, me, and your father. I don’t necessarily trust some of my men with information.”  
Case in point, Edgar and Mortimer were now _fraternizing_ with the cat and the elf. Mostly the cat, the elf was glaring at him for some reason.

“So… what?” Bean crossed her arms. “Again, why do you need me?”  
“Well… it may come across as—to the other guards, mind—as a date. Especially since they’re all bringing dates and it would look weird if I didn’t and you’re…” Pendergast managed to bite his tongue before he rambled far too much.  
Bean smirked—apparently he’d not stopped himself in time. “I’m _what_, Pendergast?”

“You’re… able to handle yourself.” Pendergast patted her on the shoulder. “I cannot in good conscience take a woman who can’t do so into a potentially hostile situation.”  
Bean seemed to be thinking about this. “…alright.”  
“Alright?” Pendergast asked.  
“I’ll go as your date.” Bean punched him on the shoulder. “When’s the wedding anyway?”

“…a week from now.” Pendergast admitted.  
She blinked rapidly. “A week? Shit, I thought this was tomorrow or something.”  
“Well, it’s custom to ask about this thing in advance.” Pendergast crossed his arms.  
“Why?” Bean asked.  
Pendergast didn’t have a good answer for that. “So that… the lady in question… can have a dress made?”

Bean shot him a Look. “Really?”  
“I don’t know that much about women!” Pendergast threw his arms in the air.  
Edgar visibly winced.

Bean shrugged. “So… I guess since I already agreed to it, we just pretend we’re dating until the wedding, right?”  
“And then break up once we get our man.” Pendergast nodded once. “I… thank you, princess.”  
“Call me Bean, you’re supposed to be my boyfriend now, right?” She grinned. “Besides, I get stuff out of this too. Yesterday my dad hinted that he might marry me off to a guy who plays the fiddle like, _really_ well.”

At the back of his mind, Pendergast wondered how long it would take to master fiddle playing. Outwardly, he said, “Jesus, really?”  
Bean nodded. “Yeah! He and Odval were arguing about it—apparently the rich kingdoms Odval wanted to marry me off to won’t take me because of what happened to Merkimer and Guysbert, so Odval’s pushing for me to marry a vassal, and my dad is talking about general fairytale bullshit.”  
Pendergast grimaced. “Well… did you hear about that princess from Kirschen?”

“I heard she had to marry that soldier guy… what happened?” Bean asked, interested.  
“…technically, I’m not supposed to spread gossip like this, but he kidnapped her several times. They finally caught him and were about o execute him, when he used black magic to kill the judge and force the king to let him marry the princess.” Pendergast crossed his arms. “An unofficial dossier was sent out to the other kingdoms to warn us about this guy.”

“Jesus Christ.” Bean muttered. “I never thought I’d feel bad for one of those princesses that are everything I’m not, y’know?”  
“I don’t.” Pendergast said.  
Bean frowned. “You know! The poised, pretty ones, who know how to do things like _dance_ and _sew_ and everything’s supposed to work out for them because they’re not fuck-ups!”  
“You’re pretty.” Pendergast said, because he didn’t see the point in lying. “And in terms of grace, you’d probably do a lot better with a sword in hand than not. Footwork is the same whether on the dancefloor or the training yard.”

Bean looked at him for a moment, then grinned. “You’re such a dork, Pendergast.”  
“And you’re not a fuck up. You’re just different from other princesses, but… that’s not so bad, right?”  
“Doing better than the princess of Kirschen…” Bean muttered, before smiling at him. “Hey, c’mere. You’re supposed to be my boyfriend, right?” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“C’mon, put your hands on my waist.” She continued.  
He did so, and she rolled her eyes. “Pen. I’m not made of glass. Hold me. Isn’t it supposed to look _realistic_?”  
That was the only warning he got before she pulled his face down to meet hers, her fingers curling into his hair. She tasted sweeter than he’d expected, and he could only just taste the hops and wheat at the back of her mouth. She wasn’t drunk.

His hands tightened on her waist as he kissed back.  
“What—what is happening?” The elf asked. “Is this a human thing? Like this is how human women reject human men?”  
“Dude.” The cat shook his head. “That’s a new low of desperation, even for you.”

Bean finally pulled away. “C’mon guys, let’s go.”  
Pendergast was shocked back into human speech. “Um… do you want to go out tomorrow, princess?”  
“Oh yeah, since we’re dating now.” Bean said.  
“Wh-wh—_dating_?” The elf sputtered.

Bean waved goodbye and left. The elf and the cat scampered after her.  
“Are you going to buy anything?” The bartender asked, finally speaking.  
Edgar and Mortimer looked at Pendergast.  
“We can’t drink on duty.” Pendergast said firmly. “…sorry?” He offered to the bartender. The bartender waved them off, annoyed.

“Yeah, he’s fine.” Mortimer said.  
“I’m going to be honest, that went a _lot_ better than I was expecting.” Edgar said.  
Pendergast glared at him. “Oh? And what were you expecting?”  
Edgar and Mortimer exchanged a look as they followed him out into the street.  
“Honestly? We were expecting her to let you down and then you’d have an excuse for not bringing a date to the wedding, like you wanted.” Mortimer said.

“Also didn’t expect you to get all awkward around her.” Edgar pointed out.  
Pendergast crossed his arms. “Thank you both for volunteering for latrine duty.”  
“Hey, c’mon! It all worked out! Somehow.” Edgar said.  
“She does seem to like the lost puppy thing. Presumably that’s why she lets the elf hang about her as well.” Mortimer mused.  
“I am _this_ close to disciplining you both.” Pendergast hissed, fighting to keep from flushing.

“Nah… we’re the closest thing you have to friends!” Edgar grinned.  
“Two weeks latrine duty. Now get back to work before I make it four!” Pendergast growled, pointing at the castle.  
They ran off, predictably. Mortimer faster than Edgar, as usual.

That was about time that the man sidled up to Pendergast.


	2. This Charles guy seems really skeevy :/

Charles Miller was a slimeball. Every time Pendergast ran into him, he was forcibly reminded of this fact. The man _oozed_ slimy, rich bastard. Admittedly, he was also the one that the sting operation was being performed on, and yes, maybe Pendergast was looking into it partially because of his own personal distrust of the man. But _come on_, he was so _obviously_ a murderer!

On this particular day, Miller also seemed deeply hungover. “Hello, Sir Pendergast.”  
“What can I do for you, Mr Miller?” Pendergast asked.  
Miller slung an arm around Pendergast’s shoulders. “Oh, come on, we’re _friends_ now. You’re coming to my wedding!”

Pendergast resisted the urge to push the arm off of his shoulder. “How can I help you, _Charles_?”  
Miller backed off, bloodshot eyes glancing around. “My servant has gone missing. She’s an old woman, I fear for her.”  
“You’d look into your servant’s disappearance, but none of your wives?” Pendergast raised an eyebrow.

“I told you, they all ran away. Fifth time’s the charm, haha?” Charles laughed.  
Pendergast forced himself to smile.  
“In all seriousness though, the woman raised me from birth. I… I don’t _trust_ women now, Pendergast. My friend in Bentwood just got married last night, and I already think his bride’s gone missing.” Charles raised an eyebrow.  
“Maybe he ate her?” Pendergast deadpanned.

Charles guffawed. “Ate—you’re so funny! So so funny! Why would you…? Hahaha.”  
“Are you alright?” Pendergast asked, since people were now looking at them.  
Charles wiped a tear from his eye. “This guy, always joking!”  
Pendergast raised an eyebrow. “Right. That’s me. The joker. Are you drunk?”  
“No! No. Not anymore.” Charles said. “I had strong wine last night, after the party… you know how weddings go! Merriment for everybody! Or at least you will in a week. Tell me, Pendergast, have you found a woman?”

Pendergast set his jaw. “I am courting the princess.”  
Charles looked genuinely afraid for a minute. “Princess… Tiabeanie?”  
“Do you know any other princesses?”  
“You’re a braver man than me, Pendergast.” Charles said.  
“According to you, women run from you immediately after the wedding.” Pendergast said. “And yet you still keep looking for… love, is it?”

Charles chuckled. “Well… one can always hope, right?”  
“Maybe your servant ran away as well.” Pendergast said.  
Charles’ face was suddenly clouded with rage. “I have been nothing but good to that woman!”  
“And you weren’t good to your wives?” Pendergast asked, placing a hand on his sword’s hilt.

Charles remembered who he was talking to. “I… not good enough, apparently.”  
“Apparently.” Pendergast said.  
Charles smiled weakly. “I’m going to go sleep off my hangover.”  
“You do that.” Pendergast replied.  
Charles ran away faster than Edgar and Mortimer. Jesus, everyone was running from Pendergast today. Shaking his head, he headed back to the castle yard.

Meanwhile, Bean was sitting on the roof of her tower with Bean and Luci.  
“So, are you and Pendergast dating so he’ll look the other way if you throw another party while your dad’s in Dankmire?” Elfo asked.  
“Nah… that didn’t go so well the first time anyway.” Bean kicked her feet. “Why can’t I just date him because I like him?”

“Wh—is he even your type?” Elfo demanded.  
“Tall, muscular, _human_, a huge dork? I’d say he’s her type.” Luci pointed out. “I mean, there’s also the stuff he said while they were over there…”  
“You heard that?!” Bean demanded.  
“I have _excellent_ hearing.” Luci pointed out. “And he called you _pretty_.”

Bean flushed. “Well, yeah. We’re dating now. You know why.”  
“Hmm. He seemed legitimately confused when you were talking about your self-esteem.” Luci pointed out.  
“What’s self-esteem?” Elfo asked.  
“Nothing you’ll ever need, buddy.” Luci cackled.

“Bean, he’s being mean to me!” Elfo said.  
“Guys, cool it.” Bean said, keeping her eyes fixed on the ocean. “This is supposed to be a nice moment.”  
“Yeah, I’m sure that princess you guys were discussing always thought her wedding would be a nice moment. They’re rarer than you think.” Luci said.

Bean shuddered. “Could you _imagine_ though? A creepy guy just rolls into town and you _have_ to marry him?”  
“If only she—what’s her name?” Elfo asked.  
“Uh… I think it’s Marianne.” Bean replied, squinting in concentration. “She’s nice enough, I guess.”

“If only Marianne had had the foresight you did.” Elfo said. “Incidentally, why are we feeling bad for Marianne?”  
“Got forced to marry a creepy older guy.” Bean said. A little door opened and a letter was handed to Bean. “Message for you, princess. Got mixed in with the regular foreign correspondence.”

“Oh, thanks… Moneypenny?” Bean guessed.  
“My name is Moonpence, princess.” The voice said. “I live in the walls.”  
“Oh. That’s… nice.” Bean said as the hand and the voice retreated.

“Speak of the devil.” Luci muttered, looking at the return address over her shoulder.  
Bean ripped open the letter. It read,

‘Dear Princess Tiabeanie,

I fear that our correspondence has lapsed lately.’  
“We never wrote to each other before. I’ve met her about twice.” Bean muttered.  
“Was she invited to your wedding?” Elfo asked.  
“Eh… probably? As a formality.” Bean replied. “I wasn’t fucking paying attention.”

She kept reading.

‘I am so sorry that I was unable to attend your wedding to Prince Guysbert of Bentwood, just as I am even more sorry that you were unable to attend my wedding to’ here, there were a bunch of titles crossed out. ‘Damien. I was hoping we might be able to resume our correspondence, so that you might be able to’ More crossed out words. ‘So that _we_ might be able to swap tales and tricks for our marriages. While I do not have the details, you always seemed unbreakable for lack of a better word, and I would like your advice on how to deal with a husband.

Signed,

Your dearest friend,  
Princess Marianne of Kirschen.’

“Does she know that I didn’t actually get married?” Bean wondered.  
“I think she’s asking you for tips on how to murder her husband.” Elfo muttered.  
“Guysbert was an _accident_.” Bean insisted. “I don’t know how to murder people properly!”

“What about those people from last week in the candy house?” Luci asked. “The uh… vaguely incestuous ones?”  
“Okay, that was self-defense.” Bean huffed, before sliding off of the roof and climbing back into her room.  
Elfo and Luci followed. “Where are you going?” Elfo asked.  
“Well, Pendergast knows stuff about fighting and defense.” Bean said.

“Right, and you’re _dating_ now.” Luci hopped up on her shoulder.  
“Why are you saying it like that?” Elfo demanded. “What do you know that I don’t?”  
“Oh, I know lots of things you don’t.” Luci said. “I know Bean ignores her feelings if they’re inconvenient for her, and guess who also does that?”

“Me?” Elfo tried.  
Luci squinted at him. “Have you ever ignored a feeling in your life?”  
“…I tried to push down my sadness in Elfwood.” Elfo eventually pointed out.  
“But you _didn’t_, did you? You’re still here, still sad.” Luci replied.  
“Hey!” Elfo said. “Not cool, man!”

Bean threw open the door to the courtyard. They scurried after her.  
“Princess, I wasn’t expecting to see you until tomorrow.” Sir Edgar grinned good-naturedly, lounging on the benches while they waited to swap out with Turbish and Mertz, who Pendergast was currently coaching on (read: yelling at about) sparring.  
“He should have given himself more time.” Sir Mortimer muttered next to him.

Turbish—at least Bean assumed it was Turbish—finally knocked Mertz out of the ring.  
“Well done, take a break.” Pendergast said. “Mortimer, Edgar…” He trailed off upon seeing Bean.  
“Mertz, hang back and referee this match.” Pendergast finished, before walking over to Bean.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here, princess.”  
“What, I can’t come visit my boyfriend?” She grinned.  
He flushed, before shooting back, “If I say no, will you do it more often?”  
She blinked, before smiling. “Depends. I haven’t decided yet.”

“Get a room!” Luci called. As he was still on Bean’s shoulder, both Bean and Pendergast winced.  
“Oh, yeah, I’m also here to show you this.” Bean handed him the letter.  
Pendergast scanned through it. “You do… realize what this is asking you to do, right?”

“Bean’s _great_ at murder.” Elfo said.  
Pendergast raised an eyebrow. “Well, your disregard for human life is disturbing. I didn’t realize you and the princess were friends… Bean.” He finished with her name after she shot him a Look and nodded at the other guards, some of whom were not so subtly listening in.

“We’re not.” Bean said. “But I have a feeling this wouldn’t be as easy as… well, what happened to Guysbert.”  
Pendergast looked at the letter. “She could try to steal the source of his magic, but that doesn’t always go well… honestly, I’d just recommend that she hide a knife under her pillow and stab him in his sleep. Claim an assassin did it—rip her clothes a bit to make it seem more realistic.”

Bean took the letter back. “That’s it? She seems kind of… delicate.”  
Pendergast shrugged. “She wrote to you asking for advice. Besides, if there’s anything I’ve learned in the last few years, it’s that princesses are never as delicate as you think.”  
Bean didn’t know why, but that made her feel warm inside.

Still, though. “I thought knights were all about rescuing princesses.”  
Pendergast shot her a look. “One princess is more than enough for me. Besides, if Dreamland soldiers cross into Kirschen, it could… end badly. It probably _would_ end badly. She wrote to you, anyway, not me. She probably doesn’t want to hear from another soldier.”  
Bean bit her lip. “Is there anything else I can tell her? I don’t think she wants him to touch her.”

“That… is a difficult question to answer…” Pendergast said, before sighing. “Follow me.”  
He led her over to an unused training dummy vaguely in a human shape on a post. “We use this for hand-to-hand combat sometimes when I’m trying to point out attacking a specific area. Now, there are several incredibly weak spots on the human body. The nose, the throat, the collar bone, the solar plexus, and the groin.” He pointed to each of them in turn on the dummy.

“So, I try to hit the dummy?” Bean asked.  
Pendergast shook his head. “I want you to try and hit me.”  
“Where?”  
“Anywhere.”

“Shouldn’t you be out of armor?” Bean asked.  
Pendergast sighed. “I suppose. …isn’t the worry that he can force her to do something with the black magic?”  
Bean shrugged. “I don’t… what happened with Guysbert was an accident. You’ve-you’ve killed people in battle—other soldiers.”

Pendergast crossed his arms. “Well… yes. But that doesn’t apply to you or the princess of Kirschen.”  
“Why not?” Bean demanded. “Because I’m a girl?”  
“Not just because you’re a woman, specifically!” Pendergast protested. “Mostly that, but it ties into the fact that you’re untrained.”  
“I’ve killed people!” Bean huffed. “Last week, those two creepy people in the forest!”

Pendergast crossed his arms. “Good for you. How did it feel?”  
“How… what?” Bean asked.  
“How did it feel?” Pendergast repeated.  
“I…” Bean trailed off. “It wasn’t… it was an accident.”

Pendergast sighed. “I killed my first man at sixteen. My uncle sent me, my brother, and my father out to deal with poachers. I got separated from the group, and I found a man skinning a deer. His cheeks were so hollow, and his clothes hung off of him. He begged for his life. And what did I do? I shot him with an arrow. He died instantly. I carry that with me every day.”  
“How did it feel?” Bean whispered.  
“I cried. I cried so long my eyes burned and my throat was hoarse. I vomited, sickened with myself. That’s what it means when you kill someone, _really_ kill someone.” Pendergast said. “You never forget that first time you cause the light to leave someone’s eyes… but you’re no killer, are you?”

“I… why did you do that?” Bean asked.  
Pendergast’s gaze shifted off of her. “It doesn’t matter now. What will you tell the princess of Kirschen to do, princess?”  
“Bean. Call me Bean.” Bean said quietly. “I… I don’t know.”  
“If you tell anyone I said this, I’ll deny it.” Pendergast said. “But… the apothecary sells poison.”  
“I know.” Bean replied.

“…if I were the princess of Kirschen, I’d ply my husband with wine, wait for him to fall asleep, and then pour the poison down his throat. Say he drank too much.” Pendergast said. “And of course, if the poison comes from outside Kirschen, it would be hard for anyone to disprove this.”  
“You put some thought into this, huh?” Bean asked, grinning at him.  
Pendergast raised an eyebrow. “Well, you know the apothecary sells poison.”

Bean flushed. “Um… I may have been planning to kill Merkimer. Once upon a time.”  
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” Pendergast said. “…you still haven’t hit me.”  
“We’re still doing that?” Bean asked, surprised.

Pendergast shrugged. “In all honesty this is the most… the _second_ most interesting thing that’s happened to me all day. And also, since you’re my _girlfriend_ now, I need to know you can actually defend yourself.”  
Bean crinkled her nose in annoyance. “You said you knew I could earlier.”  
“And may God strike me dead if you aren’t incredibly lucky when it comes to getting out of these situations you find yourself in unscathed. But after thinking on it some more, I cannot send you into a situation like this unprepared.”

“You said--! Wait, unprepared?” Bean asked, forgetting her anger.  
“Unprepared.” Pendergast agreed. “I’m not going to give you weapons training, mind, but if someone grabs you, I need to know you won’t be a liability.”  
Bean rolled her eyes. “What, like if the murderer grabs me and says something like ‘nobody move, or I’ll cut her throat’ and you have to let him go?”  
“Yes.”

“And what would you choose?”  
“You. Every time.” Pendergast said immediately. Bean raised an eyebrow, and he flushed. “You’re my _girlfriend_ now, remember? Besides, it’s kind of my job to protect you.”  
“I _can_ protect myself.” Bean pointed out.

Pendergast set his jaw. “We’ll see. I’m going to go change out of my armor.”  
“I can help.”  
Pendergast flushed. “Princess, it’s not… proper for us to be alone together in the barracks.”  
Bean stepped a bit closer. “I’m not very proper.”

Pendergast ran.


	3. Let me fetch my smelling salts

To be fair to him, he returned a few minutes later, sans armor, dressed in his white shirt and brown breeches.   
“Whoo! Get it, Bean!” Luci called across the yard.   
Bean and Pendergast both turned and glared at him.

“So, princess, hit me.” Pendergast said.   
“Okay.” Bean said. She swung, and he… caught it? And then before she could strike again, he had swept her up bridal style.   
She flushed, looking up at him. “Do I weigh anything to you?”   
Pendergast shrugged. “Try again?”

“Are you going to pick me up again?”   
“Yes, but this time I won’t be so gentle.” Pendergast warned. “This was… to get you used to the idea?”   
“I’m used to it.” Bean breathed.

He let her down, then leaned over and whispered. “I have to say, you’re being a really good sport about me being your fake boyfriend, but if you ever get uncomfortable, just tell me?”   
“I’m not uncomfortable.” Bean squeaked.   
Pendergast blinked in surprise, then nodded once. “Again.”

Again she swung, but he side-stepped her, and pulled her to him as though they were dancing. He still had her hand in his, and his other hand was on her waist. Her free hand rested up against his chest.  
“Now what, princess?” Pendergast breathed.   
She could feel his heartbeat under her fingertips. “Aren’t we supposed to be fighting?”

His eye flickered to her lips. She felt her heart pound. “…yes. We should be… training.”   
She’d kissed him earlier on an impulse, mostly to sell the story to the knights at the bar. She hadn’t expected his lips to feel so soft, or for him to taste like peppermint and chamomile. Did they need to sell the story now? For some reason, she found herself hoping that they did.

“So are you guys gonna kiss or what?” Luci called.   
Pendergast and Bean immediately pulled away from each other.   
Pendergast cleared his throat. “I think you should write to the princess of Kirschen. We can always train another day.”   
“Oh, right.” Bean said softly. “Um… see you tomorrow, I guess?”

“See you tomorrow.” Pendergast repeated.   
“Nerds!” Luci yelled from the sidelines. “Both of you are _giant nerds_!”   
Pendergast turned back to the soldiers as Bean stormed away. “Mortimer, Edgar, don’t think I didn’t notice you two weren’t doing anything while my back was turned.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this I thought it was longer so I'll update tomorrow instead of staggering it like I have been. 
> 
> Bold of you to think I will get off of this mutual pining train I've gotten you to read instead of RAMPING UP THE SPEED to FULL FORCE MUTUAL PINING.


	4. Carrots the Bastard Horse

‘Dear Princess Marianne,

I’m not good at hiding what I mean and stuff like that. So, to start off, what happened with Guysbert was an accident. I’m not a killer.

That being said, the guy you’re married to sounds terrible, not that you need me to say it. So, I think you have a couple options;   
1) hit him where it hurts! Pendergast told me there are several weak spots on the human body. Aim for the nose, the throat, the collarbone, the solar plexus (I don’t know what that is) or the other squishy bits. At least you’ll be able to get away, right?

2) Pendergast said you could kill him while he’s sleeping and rip your clothes so you could pretend that an assassin did it. He said you could stab the guy, but I was also thinking you could smother him. Pendergast always tells the knights that a man’s force is in his shoulders or something, so I think it’ll be harder for your husband to push you off if you sit there.

3) Pendergast also said you could get your husband to drink until he passes out, and then pour this down his throat. And you should probably get the source of his magic, if you can.

Anyway, I know you’re super polite and stuff, so you don’t have to write back if you don’t want to. I know we’re not really friends, but I hope everything turns out okay for you. Pendergast said we can’t take the knights of Dreamland in to save you because it would cause an _international incident_ but I don’t really care.

Call me Bean if you write back.   
-Bean’

She looked over her letter.  
“Do you think I mentioned Pendergast too much?” Bean asked Luci, ignoring the crumpled pieces of paper around her.   
“I think you mentioned him _just_ enough for her to get the implication that you’re madly in love with him and planning to elope.” Luci said. “Just under her figuring out he’s a soldier like her husband.”

Bean threw a crumpled bit of paper at him. “I’m not _madly in love_ with Pendergast!”   
“You’re dating.” Elfo pointed out from her other side. “Why are you dating if you don’t like him?”   
Bean flushed. “I never said I don’t like him! I just said I’m not _in love_ with him!”

“How do you know?” Luci asked, refolding the paper into a tiny pitchfork. “After all, you _like_ him.”   
“No she doesn’t!” Elfo said.   
“Who’re you going to listen to? Your heart? Or _Elfo_?” Luci asked, jabbing her in the arm with his little paper pitchfork. “You’re in love with Pendergast, and you’re going to get married and have a million chubby babies with your teeth and his eyes.”

Bean shuddered. “I’m not _getting married_, Luci.”   
“You do not deny that you love Pendergast!” Luci gestured with his pitchfork.   
“I already did!” Bean protested. “I just—we’re just dating! Why are you trying to ruin that?”   
“I don’t know, it’s kind of my thing.” Luci said, fixing one of the points on his pitchfork. “I ruin things, Elfo has a weird fixation on you, Pendergast has those cough drop things he crunches down on when he gets annoyed, you drink… little stuff, like that.”

“…what was that about Pendergast?” Bean asked.   
“You didn’t know?” Luci shrugged. “You spend a lot of time watching him, I decided to join you and see what the fuss was about. Every so often, he’ll just pop one in his mouth. I think he’s trying to do it as a stress thing, because he tries to suck on ‘em like you’re supposed to, but then just ends up crunching.”   
“I thought that was just his teeth.” Bean muttered.   
“Nah, he goes down to the apothecary every so often to get refills. I guess they’re addictive when you don’t drink, you don’t do drugs, you don’t have sex, and you’re not Elfo. God, Pendergast is lame.”

Bean threw another crumpled up letter at him.   
“What? He’s not having sex, is he?” Luci asked.   
“How would I know?!” Bean demanded.

“Well, who else would he be having sex with?!” Luci shot back. “I’m guessing you’ve just been staring at his butt through all that armor since you didn’t notice the cough drop crunching—oh my god, really?”   
Bean was flushing. “Sometimes he fights shirtless!”   
“Oh my _God_, you two should just have sex and get it over with!” Luci pointed his pitchfork in her face. “You’re both repressed—which is weird, because generally you’re better about that.”

“Hey, if Bean doesn’t want to have sex with Pendergast, she doesn’t have to!” Elfo said.   
“A surprisingly coherent point.” Luci admitted. “But look at her. I doubt the problem is a lack of _wanting_ on either side. Name a kid after me, will you?”   
Elfo joined Bean in pelting him with paper.

“Ow, ow! _Hey_!” Luci said. “Look, while watching you break Elfo’s heart over and over is really fun, we’re friends. I mean, the closest thing I’m willing to admit to as friends, but you and Pendergast clearly have some sort of _thing_ going on. So, either jump him, or don’t.”   
“Of-of course we have a thing! We’re dating!” Bean stammered.   
Luci raised an eyebrow. “Right, you guys are going to that wedding thing together. Don’t you have a date today as well?”

“Fuck!” Bean ran out of the room.   
“Why did you mention that?” Elfo asked.   
“To ruin your life, specifically.” Luci deadpanned.   
Elfo sighed. “I knew it. Well, we should probably follow her.”

“…why?” Luci asked. “She’s not going to do anything immoral while Pendergast’s there, so I might as well take a nap.”   
“What if they do fall in love?” Elfo demanded. “Then it’ll be your fault!”   
Luci scoffed. “_If_? Where’ve you been? Besides, I can’t claim credit for this. How dare you ruin my reputation.”

“You know I like her!”   
“Why does that matter?” Luci curled up into a sleeping position on the couch. “She doesn’t like you. That’s not going to change.”   
“It might if you don’t interfere!”   
Luci considered this for a moment. “…nah. Never going to change. Besides, I thought I was already interfering by pointing out her feelings and making her feel awkward about them?”

Elfo stormed off. Down below, Bean had finally reached the courtyard, still carrying her final draft of her letter to Marianne.   
Pendergast was saddling his horse. “Is… everything alright, princess?”   
“Fine! Everything’s fine!” Bean insisted. “Um… I have to mail a letter.” She ran off towards the turkey coop.

“That was weird.” Pendergast said to Carrots.   
Carrots said nothing, as he was a horse, and did not care.   
“You think you’re so slick with your human height and-and muscles!”

Pendergast turned to see Elfo in the doorway to the courtyard. “…can I help you?”   
“You can give me back Bean!”   
“I didn’t realize she was yours in the first place.” Pendergast crossed his arms. “Why don’t you go sleep this off or something?”   
“I can’t sleep it off! Her room smells like her!” Elfo hissed.

“Have you considered staying somewhere other than the princess’ room?” Pendergast raised an eyebrow.   
Elfo glared at him. “You don’t _get it_, do you? Bean is—Bean is _kind_ and good, deep down, even if Luci’s trying to make her bad! She deserves better than you!”

Pendergast grimaced, and popped a cough drop in his mouth before answering. “What am I not supposed to get? I know all that. She’s a princess, and I’m lucky to be alive. Of course she deserves better. But until _better_ shows up, I’m going to do what I can to make her happy. Can you say the same?”   
“I-I… of course I can!” Elfo spat.   
Pendergast offered him the bag. Elfo warily took a cough drop. Pendergast promptly tucked the bag away.

“Then we’re on the same page. …if it helps, she’ll probably break up with me after the wedding.” Pendergast pointed out.   
“Luci said she loves you.”   
Pendergast flushed. “And what did _she_ say?”   
“She said she doesn’t.”

“Then she’d know over the cat.” Pendergast shrugged. “A word of advice, though? There will come a prince who she won’t… destroy. It’s just the way of things.”   
“You’re sad.” Elfo pointed out. “I’m still optimistic.”  
Pendergast snorted. “Optimism doesn’t involve bothering me. If you cannot prove yourself to her based on your own merits, then pestering her—or me—won’t change that. You cannot fight the world _and_ Tiabeanie to make yourself her last resort.”

Bean finally came back. “Okay, ready to go Pen… Elfo?”   
“Hi, Bean.” Elfo said.   
Bean looked at him, then at Pendergast. “Is he coming with us?”   
“I hadn’t planned for that, but I could always saddle up a horse for the two of you.” Pendergast leaned against Carrots’ side.

“Wh—you weren’t going to saddle a horse already?” Elfo demanded.   
“There’s more than enough room for two people on Carrots.” Pendergast said dismissively, though his cheeks turned pink.

Carrots, meanwhile, was sniffing Bean suspiciously. She reached out a hand to pet his nose. He let her, for a moment, then started sniffing her hand. Then he bit, very gently, to determine whether or not she had any food she was keeping from him.   
“Ow!” Bean exclaimed, pulling her hand away.   
“Carrots! Bad horse! Are you okay, princess?” Pendergast asked, taking her hand.

“Yeah, fine, he didn’t bite that hard.” Bean bit her lip. “Hey, Elfo, can you go get some bandages?”   
“Sure!” Elfo said, immediately leaving.   
Bean put her hand down. “Let’s go.”   
“What about the bandages?” Pendergast asked.   
“Eh, it’s fine. I kind of…” Bean pulled a halved apple out of her pocket and handed it to Carrots, who greedily ate it. “He’s a better horse than you give him credit for. Dad’s horse would have bitten immediately.”

Pendergast sighed. “Excelsior is temperamental because he never gets enough exercise. _Carrots_ should know better than to bite.” He glared at Carrots, who continued to not care.   
Bean laughed. “It’s fine. Let’s go before he gets back.”   
Pendergast swung himself up onto Carrots, who immediately started to move forward. Pendergast rolled his eye, stopped the horse, and then helped Bean up.

And they were off.   
“Carrots is a mischievous horse… but something tells me you already know that.” Pendergast said. Jesus, her hair smelled like butterscotch. No wonder Carrots knew she had a treat on her, she certainly smelled like one.   
“I may have tried to ride him in the past.” Bean admitted. “Once or twice.”

“Did you bribe him with food first?” Pendergast asked.   
Bean grinned. “Only the second time. He bucked me the first time, and I thought it might make him behave more.”   
“For you, maybe.” Pendergast muttered into her hair. He really needed to stop smelling it. “He gets ornery if he feels I’m not giving him his due.”

Bean laughed again. “Then why not give it to him?”   
“Because what _I_ think is his due and what _he_ thinks is his due are two completely different things.”   
“Mm… maybe what you want aligns more than you think.”   
Pendergast flushed. “…are we still talking about the horse, princess?”

“Why wouldn’t we be talking about the horse?” Bean asked, twisting and blinking owlishly at him.   
Pendergast looked away first. “Never mind.”   
“Where are you taking me, anyway?” Bean asked.

“Oh, you know. Back to my haunted castle.” Pendergast deadpanned. “Where I shall make you queen of the Underworld, and all that.”   
Bean made a face. “What makes you think I want to be a queen?”   
“That’s the only problem you have with that?” Pendergast laughed.

“Well, yeah. A haunted castle sounds awesome.”   
“And the part with me, princess?”   
Bean was suddenly acutely aware of Pendergast’s body heat behind her, his arm gently coiled around her waist, and the smell of peppermint and chamomile.   
“That part doesn’t sound so bad either.” Bean admitted.

Pendergast didn’t reply to that, but the arm grew a bit tighter, just for a moment, like he was hugging her to himself.   
It wasn’t a haunted castle. It was a nice lake, surrounded by trees. Pendergast stopped Carrots near a lush patch of grass, then swung down himself before helping Bean down.   
“I’m not some delicate flower.” Bean huffed.

“I know. It’s just what’s… expected.” Pendergast shrugged.   
Bean leaned close. “You focus so much on what’s expected. Do you ever have _fun_, Pen?”   
It took all of Pendergast’s willpower to stay still. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to close the gap between them or back away. “I have fun.”   
She looked up at him, and he realized just how vulnerable she was, deep down.

And he realized that more than anything, he wanted to protect that vulnerability. How much he loved hearing her laugh, how warm she was. And he realized he loved her.

Too bad it was unrequited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:3
> 
> The horse is called Carrots because they're his favorite food, and I thought it would be funny if Pendergast's massive warhorse was named something benign. 
> 
> Pendergast, as you may have guessed, has a huge sweet tooth. Bean's hair canonically smells like butterscotch, according to Elfo. I thought it would be cute to put the two ideas together. 
> 
> Bean was intentionally trying to get Carrots to... well, not bite hard, but she was expecting to have to pull her hand away fast because of past experience with Zog's horse. Her plan-- get Elfo to go for bandages and leave while he's gone-- worked out pretty well despite the fact that Carrots is indeed a good horse.


	5. Fanservice? What fanservice?

She turned away from him, and it seemed like the spell was broken. She was back to regular Bean… except the knowledge that he was in love with her was still weighing on him.   
“When?” She asked. “What’re we going to do here, anyway?” She sat down on a bluff overlooking the lake.

“Well, quite honestly, I don’t know. It’s just to sell the ruse that… you know.. we’ve been on an outing. What do you want to do?” He sat down next to her.   
She kicked her feet. “Did you bring anything with you?”   
“Snacks—mostly apples, don’t tell the horse—fishing rods, playing cards—”   
“Cards sound good.” And just as quickly as she had sat down, she was up again, digging through his saddlebags.

She fished out the cards, and handed an apple to Carrots, before returning.   
“You’ll spoil him.” Pendergast snorted.   
“Ah, he deserves it.” Bean grins. “It can’t be all discipline all the time, right?”   
“He’s a warhorse!” Pendergast protested.

“He’s a softie, deep down, just like you.” Bean grinned, shuffling the cards.   
Pendergast flushed. “Don’t lump me in with him.”   
“What do you want to play?” Bean asked.   
“…well, what do you want to play for?”

“You don’t have anything I want.” Bean said.   
Pendergast raised an eyebrow. “Well, if we were really dating, I’d ask for a kiss. …I’ll just settle for talking to you instead. Total honesty if I win.”   
“Fine, but you have to be totally honest with me.” Bean replied. “And let’s play poker.”

“Let’s.”   
Pendergast won the first round. That’s fine, she was hustling him. “Why are you so erratic around me?”   
“What?” Bean asked, caught completely off-guard.   
Pendergast was shuffling the cards now, and he kept his eye on them. “Sometimes, you’re flustered and vulnerable, like when I was saddling up Carrots and you ran off to send your letter. Sometimes, you’re… almost flirting with me. Which is it?”

“You’re my _boyfriend_.”   
“That’s not an answer.”   
Bean chewed her lip for a moment in thought. “I don’t know. Sometimes it’s just… you’re a dick.”   
“Nice.” Pendergast raised an eyebrow.   
“Don’t be like that. Sometimes, you’re a dick, because I’m not doing what I’m _supposed_ to, and it’s kind of fun to throw you off-kilter when your pride is out. Sometimes it’s just fun to throw you off-kilter. Sometimes… sometimes you’re really sweet. This is nicer than a fake date has to be. You’re the one throwing me off-kilter—you’re not just that annoying guy a couple years older than me who wouldn’t let me hang out with you, you’re… you’re Pen. And I do a lot of the stuff I do without thinking about it, and then once it catches up with me…” She shrugged.

Pendergast dealt the cards. “Pen? You’ve called me that before.”   
“It’s a nickname.” Bean said. “Hey, you haven’t won yet!”   
She won that round.   
“Well done, princess. What do you want for your reward?” Pendergast leaned back, causing his shirt to ride up slightly. There was a very slight trail of ginger-brown hair leading…  
Bean quickly looked away, flushing. “There’s a lot of stuff I don’t know about you. I’m thinking.”

He sat up slightly and handed her the cards to shuffle. “These might be helpful to focus your thoughts.”   
“When’d you learn to play cards, anyway?” Bean asked.   
“I’ll give you that one for free.” Pendergast replied, sitting up as she began to deal. “On campaign, in the Crusades, there’s… not much to do in between fighting. Some of the stuff… isn’t my style. So, I turned to cards more than anything else. Also, it gave me something to do while I was recovering from…” He gestured to his eyepatch.

“How’d you get it?” Bean asked. “The eye thing.”   
“_There_ we go. I’ve been wondering when you’d ask. I was eighteen. I… that day felt like every other in the campaign. I didn’t want to come back here, I didn’t know who I’d be if I wasn’t supposed to fight alongside your father in the Crusades. I… I was a very lonely man, princess.”   
“Call me Bean, I’ve told you before. You-you have to get used to it.” She licked her suddenly dry lips.

He shrugged. “Alright, Bean. We were taking a castle, I think it later went to a nephew of Lord Lingonberry. Your father’s armor had gotten somewhat battered over the campaign, and I saw an archer from the castle aim for a chink in it. I… time seemed to slow down as I ran and got him out of the way, only to take the arrow myself.” He gestured to his eyepatch. “I never really asked about the details, especially since they sewed it shut while I was unconscious. I spent a few weeks recovering after I woke up, and by then the war was mostly over. I got the impression that the only reason we didn’t leave immediately after getting the lemon was because Lorenzo I made a comment to your father about the interests of everyone over the interests of one kingdom.”

Bean frowned. “He’s a dick anyway.”   
Pendergast cocked his head, his eye searching her face. “That’s all you have to say?”   
She flushed. “What do you want me to say?”   
Pendergast shrugged. “I want you to say…” he laid his cards out in front of him. “That you lose with grace.”

Bean stared at the cards. “You dirty cheat!”   
Pendergast laughed. “I never cheated, princess. You were just too involved in the story to play properly. That’s on you.”   
She stuck out her tongue. “You used the story to distract me, admit it!”   
“Princess, I am a man of honor.” He said, though his smile betrayed him.

She handed him the cards, and resisted the urge to tackle him and roughhouse. He’d probably win that too, unless she took him by surprise, and then he’d be insufferable. “So what do you want to ask?”   
“Why not Guysbert?” Pendergast asked.   
Bean sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Geez, you don’t mess around. What do you mean, ‘why not Guysbert’?”

Pendergast dealt the cards. “He was handsome, had a good military record, and I didn’t hear any reports of him being cruel or rude to servants. He was… affable. He was also fairly young. It seemed like your father went out of his way to pick a good match for you. Why not marry him?”   
Bean sighed. “It wasn’t… about Guysbert. I didn’t—I _don’t_—want to be just a queen, having sons for the benefit of my husband.”

“Wouldn’t you have power, as a queen?” Pendergast asked.   
“I _guess_, but… I don’t know. I want to marry for love. Being a queen to a king… that’s not love. That’s politics. Ugh, I don’t know how to explain it.” She waved her hand dismissively.   
“I think I get it. But what if you were the ruler, and your husband wasn’t?” Pendergast asked.   
“Ha, show me a guy who’d let that happen.” Bean grinned.

“It’s simple, just marry someone of a lower social status to you. Automatically, you come out on top.” Pendergast pointed out.   
“I’m a woman. If I get married, I become _property_.” Bean wrinkled her nose in distaste.   
Pendergast rolled his eye. “I’m not saying just pick a peasant off the street. You said Odval’s compiling a list of vassals? Why not ask to meet some before you pick one?”

“He’d say no.”   
Pendergast looked like he was about to say something, before he sighed, and said, “Not if I ask him for you.”   
“You’d do that?” Bean asked.   
“Of course. You’re helping me with the case.” Pendergast kept his attention on his cards.

_That_ was when she tackled him, catching him off-guard. His initial reaction was that she wanted to fight him, though he quickly realized she was hugging him. “Thank you, Pendergast.”   
He tentatively hugged her back. “It’s my job to protect you. I can’t fall down on the job, princess.”   
She pulled away so he could see her face, but she was still in his lap. “Nah. This goes beyond the job. Thanks, Pen.”

“It’s no problem… Bean.” He flushed.   
She smiled up at him, and he fell in love with her all over again. A selfish part of him wanted to point out that he fit her requirements, that he’d be good to her… but she wasn’t an idiot. …okay, sometimes she was an idiot, but she had to know. Pointing that out wouldn’t do himself any favors—she didn’t want him. And unlike the elf, he could be okay with that. Really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pendergast you deeply overestimate Bean's awareness of your situation.


	6. Bean drinks a lot and it wasn't even her idea

They headed back as the sun began to set over the lake. As they reached Dreamland proper, they could see the Harvest Festival being set up.   
“Oh man, I completely forgot about that. You wanna go?” Bean asked, twisting in the saddle to look at him.   
Pendergast blinked at her. “I… what happens there?”

“You’ve never been?” Bean gasped.   
Pendergast shrugged. “I’ve worked security at other festivals, and I’ve been to ones back home. I think I can guess what it’s like.”   
Bean shook her head. “Nah, c’mon! You can say it’s a continuation of our date if anyone asks!”

“Are you okay with that?”   
“I’m suggesting it, aren’t I?”  
Pendergast sighed. “I still have to stable Carrots. And before you ask, no, I can’t pawn the job off on Mertz or stable him with other horses.”   
“He’s not a snob.” Bean pointed out, patting the horse’s neck. “He’s a softie.”

Pendergast shook his head. “He’s a bastard of a horse, princess. He has to be put next to Excelsior, because that’s the only horse that will bite back if Carrots leans over and bites.”   
“Aw, why d’you say that?” Bean asked. “He doesn’t even bite that hard.”

“No, for whatever reason, he likes you. He doesn’t like most people—or horses— but he likes you.”   
“Why’s he so anti-social?” Bean asked. “He seems so sweet to me.”   
“Because you spoil him. He gets mad at other horses if he thinks they’re being treated better than he is—hand to God—and he gets mad at people since they talk down to him.”

She looked back at him, smiling. “But he likes you.”   
“I don’t talk down to him.” Pendergast shrugged.   
He stopped the horse and helped her down. “I’ll be back soon, princess.”   
“Don’t keep me waiting.” She called.

The festival was a beacon of light and energy. There were people selling food and flowers, musicians playing, people laughing.   
“What a pretty girl.” A voice called out to her.   
She spun around, to see an old man selling flowers. “Oh, thank you.”

He beckoned her closer. “A pretty girl like you deserves a flower. On the house.”   
“Thanks, but I’m just waiting for someone.”   
“Surprise him with a flower in your hair.” The old man winked. “Pick one.”   
“Do they mean anything?”

“Oh, yes. They all mean something.”   
Bean picked a blue flower at random. “This is really for free?”   
The old man nodded. “I have a granddaughter your age. She’s having a baby soon—what a pick.”   
Bean nodded back awkwardly, then returned to the light of the festival.   
She got a drink and sat down, and when she’d gotten through a third of it, Pendergast reappeared.

“Hey, Pen!” She greeted him with a smile.   
“Hey, Bean. What’s that in your hair?”   
“Oh, this weird old man gave it to me.” She pulled it out of her hair. “Why?”

Pendergast took it gently between his fingers. “I haven’t seen this in a while. It’s… you know this is a symbol of fertility, right?”   
Bean flushed. “Oh my god, _that’s_ what he meant.”   
“You don’t have to wear it.” Pendergast said quickly.

She grinned at him. “You say it like you think I should.”   
“It… matches your eyes.” Pendergast admitted. “And it’s not just a fertility thing… I mean, it is, but brides also wear it in their hair and bouquets when…” He gestured.   
Bean put it back in her hair. “So it’s somehow not a good luck fertility thing when the people in question are getting married?”

“I mean, it is, but…” Pendergast gestured vaguely. “It’s a bit of home as well.”   
“I’ll keep it.” Bean decided. “For you.”   
Pendergast flushed. “That-that… princess, surely you understand how that sounds?”   
“No, can you explain it to me?” She grinned.

Pendergast turned a deeper shade of red, and she grabbed his hand, pulling him into a dance.   
Music and bodies swirled around them. It wasn’t a waltz by any means, it was a peasant dance. It was fast paced and they swung closer together then farther away.

And she was happy. She was smiling and laughing and all he wanted was to hold her forever.   
They danced and they danced and they danced until they both were about to fall over. They got some food—some fried thing—and sat on one of the walls, watching the Zog effigy burn.   
“You haven’t drunk that much today.” Pendergast pointed out.   
“I don’t need to. Well… I kind of want to. But less so than usual.” Bean admitted.

“…this is a terrible idea, but there’s a drinking competition.” Pendergast said.   
“What, and you want to join?” Bean asked.   
Pendergast snorted. “_God_, no. I’m a lightweight—I avoid alcohol as much as possible. But, if you want to join…”   
She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for not wanting me to be the perfect princess.”

She won, of course. It was a bit close to her alcohol limit and she wobbled as she got up—which is more than can be said to the others. “Pen, I did it!”   
She promptly fell into his arms, giggling.   
“Let’s get you home, princess.” He sighed, straightening the flower.

“You’re cute, you know that?” She asked.   
He hefted her into his arms, bridal style. “I… people generally don’t say that to me, no.”   
“That’s sad, people should tell you more.”   
“Well, I got you drunk, that’s something I should have been told _not_ to do.”   
“Nahhh it’s fine!” She poked him on the nose. “What happened to your nose, Pen?”

“It’s gotten broken a few times.”   
She leaned up and kissed it. “Did that help?”   
He flushed. “Um… thank you, princess. But it’s far from the only wound I’ve received in battle, or even the worst.”   
And she gazed up at him with those big blue eyes.

“You know, I…” She trailed off, frowning, then her eyes went wide, and she pulled herself out of his arms, landing on her feet and promptly throwing up.   
He held back her hair and rubbed her back. “Easy, princess.”   
There was less than he expected.

She finally stood back up, and he offered her the bag. “To get rid of the taste. …you should probably eat something when you get home too.”   
She took one. “Tastes like you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you’re still drunk. Wonderful.”   
“I’m not drunk!” She protested. “’m just buzzed.”   
“Take the bag, Bean.”   
She took the bag. She tried to take a step, but it was fairly wobbly. Pendergast sighed and picked her up again. Thankfully she’d missed her clothes, so they were both clean.

She curled up closer to his chest. “You’re warm.”   
“Can you get up the stairs to your tower on your own?” He asked.   
“If I say yes will you still carry me?” She asked. “I like the warmth. Besides, no one hugs me anymore.”   
“I’ll carry you to your door.” He promised.

She pouted, but laid her head on his shoulder anyway. “I had fun today.”   
“Yeah?” He asked, smiling. “Maybe I do know how to have fun?”   
“Mmm… yeah. You’re fun.” Bean said. “We didn’t kiss today.”   
“It was a fake date, princess.”

“What would you do on a real date?”   
“Take you to my real haunted castle.”   
She giggle-snorted. “Why aren’t you funny more often?”   
“It’s not part of my job description.”

She tapped his nose. “Well… if I’m ever queen, I’ll make it your job description. You’ll have to make me smile every day.”   
“I’m not wearing the stupid hat.”   
She burst out laughing. “Pfhahahaha I can just picture you in it—looking all _moody_ and _mad_. But no, I don’t want you to wear the hat. Just have more nice days like today with me. Please?”

“I’ll do that even if you’re not a queen.” Pendergast promised quietly. “I’ll make you happy as much as possible.”   
“Do I make you happy too?” She asked.   
“Of course, princess.”   
She poked him in the face.

“Of course, _Bean_.” He amended. They entered the castle.   
“I should probably let you go now.” He continued.   
“Nooo, I like the warmth.”

“I’m not going to carry you all the way to your bed, princess.”   
He carried her to her door.   
“Hey, we crossed the threshold of the building.”   
“Yeah?”   
“And I’m wearing a wedding flower.”   
“…yeah?”

“So we’re married.” Bean said, before pulling out of his arms and landing on her feet.   
“Ye—wait, no.” Pendergast said.   
Bean grinned at him. “I don’t think I’d mind being married to you, Pen.”   
Pendergast sighed. “It doesn’t mean anything if you say it drunk, princess. I’ll see you in the morning, okay? Drink some water.”

“I’m not drunk!” She frowned at him.   
He raised an eyebrow. “So you just vomited for the hell of it? That’s unhealthy.”   
“No! I just…” She trailed off.   
“I’ll see you in the morning.” He repeated, before leaving.

She opened the door to her room.   
“Where were you?” Elfo immediately asked.   
“Why are you wearing a fertility drug in your hair?” Luci added.   
“WHAT?!” Elfo demanded.

“It doesn’t work.” Luci replied. “…or _does_ it? I can never remember.”   
Bean pulled the flower out of her hair and twirled it in her fingers, before promptly collapsing on the bed.   
Luci sighed. “C’mon, Elfo. You get to touch Bean for this, isn’t that fun?”   
“Wh-what are you doing?” Elfo asked.

“I’m putting her in the recovery position. Duh.” Luci said, scampering onto the bed and turning Bean onto her side. Then he sniffed the air cautiously. “Huh. Either Pendergast gave her one of those cough drop things, or he _really_ made out with her.”   
“What?!” Elfo repeated.   
Luci hopped off the bed. “Well, I can smell… lake water, horses, and I can smell a _lot_ of Pendergast on her clothes. If he wasn’t _very_ close to her all day, I’ll say something nice to you for once. Her mouth smells like his cough drop things, but she also smells like beer and vomit, so who the hell knows.”

“I don’t believe you.” Elfo said.   
Luci raised his nose. “She also smells like that flower, and fire. And then we get into the stuff you’re too dumb for.”   
“Hey! I’m not dumb!” Elfo protested.   
“Okay then.” Luci crossed his arms. “She smells like she’s got a higher serotonin and dopamine output than usual. She’s also got a _lot_ of… Jesus Christ, is that oxytocin?”

“…okay, what’s that mean? He gave her drugs?”   
“No, dumbass. It means she’s happy. And in love, so ha! I’m the smartest one out of the three of us!”   
“I mean, that’s kind of like being the tallest dwarf.” Elfo replied.   
“Interesting point.” Luci said before whacking Elfo in the face with his tail. “Here’s my interesting point; either she had sex with Pendergast, or she wanted to. Either way, he’s not going away soon.”   
“Why are you so mean to me?” Elfo asked.

“It’s like taking candy from a baby.” Luci muttered sleepily, stretching like a cat. “Welp, time to sleep.”   
Grumbling, Elfo settled in beside him on the couch. On the bed, Bean smiled in her sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The old man's comment about his granddaughter being pregnant is because he thought she picked the flower out on purpose. It is not based on a real flower, because most are not... that straightforward. 
> 
> Oxytocin is used for pair bonding, orgasm (which is what Luci meant about her wanting to have sex) and basically every time human beings have positive feelings for each other. It will be coming up more. 
> 
> Luci probably has a great nose. He's posing as a cat, after all. It just doesn't come up because he couldn't fuck with people over it. 
> 
> For more harvest festival Beandergast shenanigans, go read, 'Love for Dipshits' by taffee23. For more Beandergast in general, go check out 'Strange Fate' by Cyntax! Both are really good!


	7. Hey remember that other story I wrote?

Bean’s dream was so vivid it didn’t feel like a usual dream.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Pendergast’s voice said with a gentle hand on her shoulder.   
“Mmrg, Pen? What time is it?” She asked, eyes still closed.   
“I’d say, about 9 am?”   
She got out of bed better than she usually would have. “Jesus, why didn’t you wake me?”

“You looked so tired last night.” Pendergast was taking off a shirt as she opened her eyes. He noticed her looking at him, and shrugged. “Dawn practice. I’m not going to walk around the rest of the day in sweaty clothes.”   
“That’s not what I’m looking at.” She replied.   
He chuckled. “What, three isn’t enough for you?”

She hugged him from behind. “Mm… that’s not what I’m thinking about.”   
“Oh, non-reproductive sex? What _will_ the church say?” Pendergast asked.   
She kissed his shoulder. “I don’t think the church has any business in here.”   
He spun on his heel so she was facing him, and took her hands in his. His thumb rubbed against a ring on her left hand, drawing her attention momentarily. “Really? That’s not what it sounded like last night, what with all those _Oh God_s.”

She smirked up at him. “Well, I—”   
That was when the children burst in.   
Pendergast sighed and went back to putting on his shirt. “I thought you three knew how to knock?”   
The tallest, with ginger-brown hair pulled back in a sensible braid, ground her teeth in a very Pendergast-like way. “They insisted on bursting in because—”

“We wanna ride Carrots!” The younger girl with snow-white hair pulled back with a pink ribbon said.   
“Emma got to ride him!” The boy with the same white hair and a green shirt added.   
Pendergast loomed over the small children. “You two understand that Carrots is not just ornery, he was bred and trained for war?”   
“Yeah.” The little boy said.   
“And that he very rarely lets people touch him besides me and your mother?”

“Yeah! But he lets Emma touch him!” The little girl protested.   
The eldest flushed, hiding her freckles momentarily.   
“Emma spends most of her time in the stables.” Pendergast replied. “You two can go see how he reacts before I put either of you on his back, though.”

“Yay!” The twins surged forward and hugged Pendergast’s legs. Pendergast sighed and bent down, allowing them both to grab on and be carried around.   
“Coming, Mom?” Emma asked.   
“In a minute.” She replied. “I have to get dressed first.”

Emma nodded, then headed out of the room. She went to the mirror—and shouldn’t Bean be older? Why would Bean be wearing her clothes to bed?  
“I am older.” She huffed. “And _you_ need to go back where you came from!” She made a shoving motion, and the mirror shuddered…

…and Bean woke up, gasping for air. She was still in her room, Luci and Elfo dozing on the couch. She was still nineteen. And she was, weirdly, wearing her clothes to bed. She changed, got back in bed, and stared up at the ceiling, before eventually falling back to a now dreamless sleep.

She woke up earlier than usual, head pounding. “Ow…”   
“Drink this.” Luci offered.   
Bean looked past him. “Elfo, can you go get me some _clean_ water?”   
“Of course!” And Elfo was off like a shot.

“Can I order Elfo to do stuff too?” Luci asked.   
“No.” Bean said hoarsely. “God, my throat…”   
She got out of bed, wincing as her feet touched the cold floor, then dug through her pockets until she found the cough drops.

Luci watched her the whole time, tail flicking in thought. “You didn’t pickpocket Pendergast, did you?”   
“Of course not.” Bean hissed, popping a cough drop in her mouth.   
“Who even are you anymore?” Luci asked.   
Bean shot him a dark look.

“So, you remember what you did last night?” Luci asked.   
“Yeah? Why?”   
Luci gently pulled the flower out of her hair, somehow still uncrushed, and handed it to her. “Should I start with the fact you were obviously trying to pretend you were drunk to Pendergast so he’d carry you back, or the part where you told him you’re married?”

Bean flushed. “I _was_ drunk. I wouldn’t… say that stuff sober.”   
“Yeah, but why?” Luci asked, throwing a crumpled up paper ball from the day before at her.   
“I don’t like him like that!”   
“Hmm. Okay.” Luci said. “That’s exactly why you declared yourself married to him because he carried you a certain way with a flower in your hair.”

“It sounds really stupid when you say it like that.” Bean buried her face in her pillow.   
“Yeah? People in love are stupid, stupid.” Luci threw another paper ball at her. “So, I’m genuinely curious, do you not know when people have feelings for you, or do you just ignore them really hard?”

Bean surfaced from the pillow. “What do you mean?”   
“Let’s start with Elfo. It’s almost _painful_ looking at him.” Luci said.   
“I was kind of just hoping that would go away.” Bean muttered. “He’s like… he’s like a little puppy dog, you know?”   
“I hate dogs, so yes.” Luci said.

“No one hates dogs.”   
“Demon?” Luci jerked a thumb at himself pointedly.   
“Fair enough.” Bean said.

“So you know Pendergast has a crush on you, right?” Luci asked.   
Bean flushed. “No he doesn’t, we’re just friends.”   
“Wow, okay. 50/50 on dumbass and insensitive, what a catch you are.” Luci said just as Elfo returned with the water.

“No she’s not!” Elfo said.   
“Thanks, Elfo.” Bean replied, taking the water.   
“Bean’s perfect! You’re just a bad influence!” Elfo hissed.   
“Or, am I a _good_ influence, forcing her to confront her vices and flaws?” Luci asked. “And therefore forcing her to grow as a person?”

Elfo thought about this for a minute. “I… no! You’re _bad_!”   
“What is bad?” Luci asked. “The animals in the woods hunt and kill, but is that bad?”   
“Luci, stop tormenting Elfo with philosophy.” Bean said. “My dad’s back.”

“Yeah, let’s go torment him instead.” Luci hopped up on her shoulder.   
Zog wasn’t in the throne room, but Pendergast was, back in armor.   
“Hey, you feeling better?” He asked.   
She nodded. “Thanks for the cough drops, I woke up with a sore throat.”   
Pendergast smiled slightly. “If that’s all you woke up with, I envy the way you can drink.”   
“I mean, I also dreamed we were married.” Bean blurted out.

Pendergast froze. “I… because of the flower?”   
“Maybe because she came home smelling of oxytocin?” Luci piped up.   
“What?” Bean and Pendergast said at the same time.   
“Oof, explaining what that is to you guys will take way too long, so I’m just going to ask straight out. Did you guys fuck?”

Pendergast turned bright red. “I… no! Of course not! She’s the princess and I…!”   
“You what? You’re so deeply in love with her that I can smell it coming off you so strongly as to overpower that cough drop she took this morning?”   
Pendergast didn’t answer. Well, he kind of did, he pointedly looked anywhere else.  
“He’s joking. He always does this—trying to embarrass me and… well, people around me.” Bean said, before hissing at Luci, “Go bother Elfo!”   
“And leave you two unchaperoned?” Luci gasped. “What with Bean being an innocent maiden?”

“I am about five seconds away from drop-kicking you out the door.” Bean told him.   
“And that is my cue to go torture Elfo. I’ll keep an eye out for your dad so I know when to come back in to have him catch you guys making out. Later.” Luci jumped off of Bean’s shoulder and skedaddled out the door.   
“I know you don’t love me.” Bean said. “Don’t let him get to you.”

“Would it be so bad if I did?” Pendergast asked softly.  
Bean’s heart beat a bit faster. “I… I don’t know.” Then she punched his shoulder. “But you don’t, so we don’t need to talk about this.”   
“Understood, princess. So why did you want to see me?” Pendergast asked, his eye flicking back to the list in front of him.

“Um… no reason, really.” Bean flushed.   
He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”   
“What are you looking at?” She asked, leaning over.   
“Security concerns to discuss with your father. Nothing we can’t handle, I just like to keep him apprised, especially since what happened in Kirschen.”

“What happened?” Bean asked.   
“Nothing besides what we already know, but… Princess Marianne is a treasured only child. No princess was expected to have more control over her future than her. If this could happen to her, it could come here, and…” Pendergast shrugged.   
“Thank you.” Bean said. “That’s really kind of you.”

“Just doing my job, princess. I don’t need thanks for that.”   
“You get that I’d kill him though, right?” Bean asked.   
“Would that be before or after the wedding night?” Pendergast muttered. “A soldier is different from a prince, Bean.”   
“I don’t want a prince.”

Pendergast raised an eyebrow. “So, unlike Princess Marianne, you’d be happy married to a soldier old enough to be your father who was dishonorably discharged and is taking it on you?”   
Bean flushed. “I never said I’d marry an _old_ soldier. Someone your age, maybe.”   
Pendergast flushed. “Someone my age?”

“Yeah. You’re twenty-two, right? Only three years older than me?” Bean shrugged. “I don’t want to marry an old man.”   
Pendergast blinked at her for a moment, before regaining his composure. “Well, it’s my job to make sure you don’t have to.”   
“Even then, I’d just run away again.” Bean muttered.

“And go jumping off of cliffs again?” Pendergast asked, finally lifting his attention from the list.   
“If I have to. Would you follow me?”   
Pendergast snorted. “To the ends of the Earth and back, princess. But, I could be persuaded not to follow if I knew it would only push you to your death.”

“Persuaded how?” Bean asked, leaning towards him.   
That was when the door opened and Zog came in. “With the goddamn salary I pay him!”   
Pendergast snapped to attention. “Sir!”   
“At ease, Gast.” Zog sat down in his throne. “Ah… a full few days of schmoozin’ with the in-laws. It was terrible. How are things here?”

“We’re dating.” Bean said quickly, looping an arm with Pendergast. He looked at it, then at her.  
“Oh. Really?” Zog asked.   
“You don’t seem that surprised.” Pendergast said.   
“This is supposed to be surprising?” Zog asked. “Geez. And here I was thinkin’ if I didn’t marry you off to this really nasty-lookin’ dude we passed on the way here, you’d die an old maid.”

“Please don’t do that, sir.” Pendergast said.   
Zog waved his hand dismissively. “Truth be told, not sure it was even a human man. He was covered in dirt and soot and hair and shit. Might’ve just been a man-sized bear.”   
“I straight up do not want to marry a bear.” Bean hissed.   
“That’s probably for the best. Not known for fidelity, bears… swans, though, those mate for life.”

“I don’t want to marry a _swan_ either!”   
“It could be a god in the guise of a swan!” Zog protested. “Ya ever think of that?”   
Pendergast cleared his throat. “Sir, if we could get back to the matter at hand?”   
“What, about you being fully human and datin’ my daughter?” Zog asked.

Pendergast flushed. “I meant… I have a list I was planning to show you, regarding possible threats…?”   
“Eh, I’m tired Gast. You know how much I had to smile while I was there? My teeth hurt.”   
“I don’t think your teeth are supposed to hurt when you smile.” Bean pointed out.   
Zog waved her off. “Everything hurts when I smile. When you’re king, you can tell me how it shouldn’t be affectin’ my teeth.”

Bean squinted at him. “I’m not… going to be king.”   
“Then you shouldn’t be lecturin’ me! Go off and do whatever it is you do. Pendergast, you too.”   
Pendergast bowed his head, and turned to leave.   
“Oh, wait, Pendergast?” Zog called.   
Pendergast turned back. “Sir?”

“Break my daughter’s hymen and I’ll strangle you to death with my bare hands.” Zog warned.   
Pendergast blinked rapidly. “I have… no intention of dishonoring the princess.”   
Zog grinned. “That’s what I like to hear.”   
“Boo!” Luci called. “I was hoping for _drama_ not _feelings_.”

He followed Bean out of the room anyway.   
Servants were bringing luggage from the royal barge to the castle. Bean scanned them for a minute, then her arm suddenly darted into the crowd and pulled out Derek, who’d been left to walk on his own.   
“Hi, Bean.” He said.   
“We need to talk.” She pulled him out of the crowd, and towed him to the garden. Derek promptly sat down on a bench while Bean paced in front of him.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how my trip was?” Derek asked.   
Bean huffed and crossed her arms. “How was your trip to see family besides Dad?”   
“…did you… _want_ to go to Dankmire?” Derek asked.

“No! …maybe.” Bean admitted. “Just, it would have been nice to have been asked or _warned_ or something before you woke up screaming and said I couldn’t come. What _was_ that?”   
Derek stared at his hands. “Oh. That. It felt… real. Do you ever have a dream like that? Where it feels far, far too real to be a dream?”   
Unconsciously, images of twins with white hair and an older girl with ginger-brown came to her mind. “I… maybe.”

Derek nodded. “I dream them sometimes. And it wasn’t your fault, but I didn’t want to have to be in a giant skillet.”   
“I wouldn’t have put you in a giant skillet!” Bean protested. “That sounds like a normal dream anyway.”   
“It wasn’t.” Derek sighed. “And it was… the skillet thing is too much to explain. I don’t want to talk about that.”

Bean sat down next to him. “So you didn’t just do it because you were trying to make me feel bad?”   
“No? Dad gets mad at you because of stuff you do, and he still likes you better.” Derek huffed.   
Bean scratched the back of her neck. “Was he a little bit nicer in Dankmire?”  
“No.” Derek wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “But he remembered me. And Grandfather said I was the best I was probably ever going to be with a father like that.”  
Bean felt… bad. “At least you have a grandfather, right?”

“I have a grandfather, and a father, and a sister.”   
“Don’t lump me in with them.” Bean said. “I… how was your trip, in spite of that?”   
Derek glanced at her, then grimaced. “It was… Mom wasn’t happy either. I get why you don’t want to get married now. Everything she liked there was either different or gone, she said it wasn’t the same. She took a lot of snakeroot while we were there, and she and Grandfather fought about it. Father was angry a lot. He doesn’t like Dankmire.”

“Dad’s kind of always angry.” Bean said. “It’s not your fault.”   
“I know!” Derek said.   
Bean shrugged. “What do you want me to say? I’m not good with feelings!”

Derek snorted. “Yeah, that’s fair.”   
Bean mock-glared at him. “Asshole.”   
“I know you are, but what am I?”   
“I’m almost proud.” Bean muttered.   
Derek did laugh that time.

Across the castle in the courtyard, Pendergast approached Mortimer and Edgar. “I have a question for you two.”   
“Is this about latrine duty? We’ve been good about that.” Mortimer said.   
Edgar bumped him. “Sh, don’t dig us a hole!”

Pendergast watched them for a minute, before sighing. “I’ll cut to the chase. When did you realize I’m in love with her?”   
“Who?” Mortimer asked, earning him another bump from Edgar. “The better question is, when did _you_ realize you’re in love with her, eh?”

Pendergast crossed his arms. “I was unaware that you were leading this questioning, Edgar. You still haven’t answered my question.”   
All three knights were silent for a minute, then Mortimer said, “You stare at her during official functions. A lot.”   
“Phrasing…” Edgar muttered.   
Pendergast flushed. “I’m… looking out for her.”

“You took Turbish and Mertz when she ran off. Almost like you didn’t want Merkimer to find her.” Edgar added.   
“You have been focusing more on what happened to the princess of Kirschen and making sure that doesn’t happen here.” Mortimer finished.   
“I asked for a timeframe, not a play by play.” Pendergast hissed.   
Mortimer looked at Edgar. “You’ve been here longer.”

Edgar sucked air in through his teeth. “Yeah… to be honest, I thought they had something going on for a while, she’s always watching him, and when she’s not, he’s watching her… definitive incident though? Last year when there was that archery thing, you let her train—”   
“That was to piss off Stryker and Bolt.” Pendergast interrupted.

Edgar raised an eyebrow. “Sure it was. Anyway, you not only let her train with us, I saw you giving her pointers.”   
“I didn’t want her taking out someone’s eye with it.” Pendergast said wryly.   
“…I’m not going to touch that. I thought at the time, ‘oh, he’s going to adjust her hips or something’ but no. You just… gave her this smile that you only give her, even if her head was turned so she didn’t see it. And later when I corrected her aim, I could _feel_ your glare burning into my skull.”

“Because I didn’t want you ruining my progress.” Pendergast said.   
Mortimer squinted at him. “Did you… just figure out that you like her?”   
Edgar laughed. “Mortimer, don’t be ridiculous. Of course he didn’t…” Edgar realized Pendergast wasn’t laughing. “Oh my God.”  
“Thank you both for volunteering for another week of latrine duty.” Pendergast said drily, before marching off with all the offended dignity of a wet cat.

He steeled himself, then headed into the castle to see Odval. Predictably, he was in his office.   
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Pendergast?” Odval asked without looking up.   
“How did you know it was me?”   
“Your… guards… don’t come in here.” Odval finally looked up, folding his hands under his chin. “I heard about you and the princess.”

“That’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.” Pendergast remained as still as possible so as not to give anything away. “I know you’re—you’re compiling a list of vassals that she could marry.”   
“Is that all? I’ll set it aside, of course.” Odval said, turning back to the paperwork on his desk.  
“No.” Pendergast said quickly.

Odval looked up sharply. “No?”   
Pendergast took a deep breath, before saying, “I… this isn’t… she doesn’t want me.”   
Odval raised an eyebrow. “Yet she’s with you.”   
Pendergast pushed down the urge to flinch or squirm. “She doesn’t want me.”   
Odval watched him for a minute. He watched him shift from the awkward, sweet young man to Captain of the Guard. “If you’re drawing up a list, she should look at it if we don’t want to have to send another dead body home.”

Odval leaned back in his chair. “And what if she chooses nothing?”   
Pendergast scoffed. “What was that Zog was saying earlier about a bear?”   
Odval sighed. “One of his worse ideas. I fear he is at the end of his rope with her—the fact that she’s apparently just using you won’t sit well with him.”   
_There_ was the flinch. “She seems unaware that he can just declare her married to anyone.”

“And it will be _anyone_ if she continues to behave this way.” Odval privately congratulated himself on not having children, particularly daughters. “I’ll draw up the list. Might do to meet her halfway.”   
Pendergast gave a curt nod. “Thank you, Odval.”

When he was gone, Odval slid open Moonpence’s little door. “Miss Moonpence? Can you please get me the princess’ criminal record? And reports that Knight-Captain Pendergast has filed in the last year, especially those involving a woman.”   
“Any woman, sir?” Moonpence asked.   
“Oh, yes, I need a control group.” Odval sighed. “The ones where he doesn’t mention the criminal by name or any helpful descriptions on top, please.”   
“Under the princess’ criminal record?”   
“Yes. And sort in terms of relevance to her modus operandi. The little brat is up to something with Pendergast, and if she thinks we’ll _all_ just look the other way while she perverts the justice of the kingdom and wraps that poor boy around her finger, she’s sadly mistaken.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you've read 'The Virtue of Nobility', that part at the beginning may look... familiar. And therein lies the meaning behind the series name-- they're all alternate universes off of each other, with canon lying in the middle. Also I just kind of missed their kids. 
> 
> No, it wasn't a bear Zog saw. That's... another story. He's just a nasty looking man that can play the fiddle really well. :) Maybe he'll come back, maybe he won't. (He will. He definitely will.) Also, who said Pendergast is fully human? He's 3/4 human, but that last quarter...
> 
> You're probably wondering what Bean means by Derek screaming. He had a nightmare about the events of 'Swamp and Circumstance' which led to her being left behind while everyone else went. Therefore, the trip lasted a few days with minimal upsets. (Bean isn't pleased about this, but this was never about her.) If this sounds like 'The Virtue of Nobility' again, it's supposed to. Stuff carries over between the universes, remember?


	8. Luci's now just that Guy from Rom-Coms

Bean and Pendergast didn’t really end up seeing each other for the rest of that day. The next day, Tuesday, Bean received another letter from Princess Marianne.

‘Dear Bean,

Thank you for sending me that vial when we last spoke. A great tragedy has befallen me since then, but first, the cream that you sent me for my hands was very helpful, thank you. I admit I also used the method you described for intimacy with my husband—I can’t thank you enough for that.

Unfortunately, my husband has perished in a fire that broke out in our rooms. I also lost your letter from last time. It was a harrowing experience, but I feel comfortable telling you; he was unfortunately deep in his cups that night. I smelled smoke and awoke, and of course I tried to wake my husband. He wouldn’t budge. I fear he was dead before I awoke, but we’ll never know now because of the fire.

I am glad that you and your new betrothed get along so well. I also have to admit, I like your brand of honesty. It’s refreshing not having to search for hidden meanings behind every word. I confess, I’ve never been too good at intrigue myself. Circumstances have forced me to improve a bit. I admit, I had difficulty understanding you before my marriage. You seemed—you still seem—like a wild force of your own, like the sea crashing onto the rocks. I didn’t understand why you wouldn’t listen to your father, who meant the best for you. I understand now.

Please know that you always have a friend in Kirschen.

Sincerely,

Marianne.’

Bean blinked at the letter. “Hand cream…?”   
“I think she poisoned her husband.” Luci said as they walked down the hall.   
“But she said there was a fire.” Elfo pointed out.

“Yeah, she set it to cover her tracks, dumbass.” Luci said.   
Bean walked along the corridor, re-reading the letter.   
“Left.” Luci called from her shoulder. “Right.”

Her foot fell on empty air, and she went flying instead of walking down the stairs. “Luci, you asshole…!”   
“Oh, did I forget to mention the stairs?” Luci called from the top.   
“Did you kill her?” Elfo asked.   
“Let’s find out.”

A minute ago, Bean had been falling through empty air—and then she landed hard in armored arms. Pendergast had not necessarily just had his arms out in the right place at the right time, he was down on a bended knee to lean forward and catch her.

“Are you alright?” Pendergast asked her, standing up.  
“I… yeah. How do I always end up in your arms?” Bean asked.   
Pendergast shrugged, though he smiled softly. “I’m not going to complain, princess.”   
That was when Luci and Elfo arrived.

“Oh, no, they’re just stinking up the hallway with their _feelings_.” Luci huffed. “You’ve got surprisingly good hand-eye coordination for a guy with only one eye, by the way.”   
“Thank you?” Pendergast said.   
Luci squinted at him. “Your depth perception should be awful, and yet you caught her. Can we burn him as a warlock?”   
“No one is getting burnt.” Bean huffed. “And shouldn’t you apologize?”

“For what?” Luci asked, genuinely interested.   
“For not telling me I was _next to the fucking stairs_?” Bean hissed.   
“Okay, first of all, you’ve lived here for how long? You should know your way around blindfolded. Second, you trusted my directions. That’s on you. Third, no one actually got hurt. Did you think I didn’t know your _boyfriend_ was right around the corner?”

“Because I’m a known medic.” Pendergast crossed his arms.   
Luci waved him off. “Hey, when’s the last time you guys kissed, anyway? Bean’s been remarkably chaste for… well, Bean. I thought for sure you two would have engaged in liplock again by now.”   
Both Bean and Pendergast immediately turned red.   
“Maybe they’re not dating.” Elfo said.

Luci pointed at him. “You see what kind of conclusions people come to when you don’t publically make out?”   
“You’re definitely trying to cause trouble.” Pendergast said.   
“Yeah? I’m always trying to cause trouble, just like Elfo’s always trying to get Bean to fall for him—not going to happen, buddy—Bean’s always trying to get drunk, and you’re always trying to balance work and pleasure.”

“Please never refer to my personal life like that again.” Pendergast replied.   
“Oh, you mean your personal life that consists of one person? My bad. You’re always trying to balance trying to earn Odval and Zog’s respect to fill the void of the father you should have had, and earning Bean’s love and respect.” Luci said.   
Pendergast startled, then glared at him.  
“You are getting meaner.” Elfo told Luci.

“You aren’t really _worthy_ of my best material.” Luci said nonchalantly.   
“Bean, he’s being mean to me.” Elfo whined.

“Is that _mean_? I was just being honest. You want me to be honest, right?” Luci replied.   
“_Guys_, can it. Go lead someone else down the stairs—_not_ Elfo.”   
“You’re no fun.” Luci said as he scampered away. “Watch your step, Elfo.”   
“Wait, what are you going to do to me?” Elfo demanded, chasing after him. The last thing Bean and Pendergast heard was Luci cackling.

“So… we need another kiss.” Pendergast said. “Courtyard?”   
“Here works.” Bean said softly. “Someone’s always coming or going, and-and it shouldn’t look too much like a show, right?”   
“Right. May I?”

“Oh-okay.” Bean stuttered, before Pendergast leaned in close.   
He still tasted like those cough drops. His kiss was softer than hers had been, though it still felt… urgent. He gently held her chin up with his thumb and forefinger.   
“I’m not going to run away.” She said, breaking the kiss for just a second. “You don’t need to hold me here.”   
His hand dropped immediately. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. …do-over?” She asked, backing up against the wall.   
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s not what your body language says, princess.”   
“It’s more so I have something to push up against without knocking you over.” She admitted. “C’mere.”   
He moved towards her, and put his hands on her hips. She tilted her head up, and met his lips for just a second, before pulling away. “Open your mouth.”

He complied. This one was rougher, his teeth scraping her lower lip. She pushed herself off of the wall onto him, but he stood firm. Her hands curled into his hair, and he bit down harder, his hands tightening on her. She wrapped a leg around him to pull him even closer. He complied, holding her closer and supporting her somewhat.

She broke away, and he almost pulled back, but she moved her mouth from his to his neck.   
“Prin-princess…” He gasped. “This is most definitely _not chaste_…”   
“Who said I want to be _chaste_?”   
Zog and Odval chose that moment to walk by. “You better be, unless you wanna get locked in a tower like that Maleen girl.”

Pendergast pulled away. “Sir!”   
“Well, at least there aren’t any convenient holes in her clothing…” Odval muttered. “Princess, if I may talk to you in my office?”   
“Uh… sure.” She followed him, looking back at Pendergast who was flushing and covering his mouth. She grinned back at him. Nerd.

She followed Odval to his office, then stood as he sat down at his desk. “Miss Moonpence, may I have the files I asked for yesterday, please?”   
“Of course, sir.” Miss Moonpence opened a little door and handed him two files.   
Odval looked up at Bean. “Sit down please, princess.”

She sat down in front of him. “Um… is this about the vassal thing?”   
“Oh yes, that…” Odval said. “That may take some time to gather, you know.”   
“Then what’re those?” Bean asked, pointing at the files in front of him.   
“…a hypothesis I have.” Odval replied. “Now, what are you doing with Pendergast?”

Bean blinked owlishly at him. “What?”   
Odval leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “Princess, this may come as a surprise to you since you rarely care for anyone but yourself, but I never married.”   
“Yeah, you have that thing with Sorcerio going on.” Bean nodded.   
“Alright, that was more perceptive than I thought. I don’t have children, but I’ve more or less taken Pendergast under my wing since I was the one who originally brought him here.”

“What does this have to do with me?”   
“I don’t approve of you toying with him.” Odval snapped.   
“Toying with him?! Why would I _toy_ with him?” Bean spat.   
Odval tapped the top of the files. “So that your misadventures will be overlooked. So that you can continue to escape justice. So that we will all just _forget_ that you are a law-breaking miscreant.”

“That’s not true!”   
Odval looked at her placidly. “Isn’t it? Pendergast told me yesterday that he knows you don’t have feelings for him. So why would you be interested in him? Things like valor, honour, chivalry… they mean everything to him, and nothing to you. What other reason could you have for tormenting him like this, princess? Do you perhaps want his career to be sacrificed on the altar of your ego? Why are you doing this, princess?”

Bean opened her mouth to say something, then remembered. Pendergast trusted her with the mission. “I can’t tell you. What I can tell you is that he doesn’t care about me that way either, and I’m not going to hurt him.”   
Odval scoffed. “Do me the courtesy of not lying for once, Tiabeanie. It’s obvious that Pendergast cares for you, though I can only imagine why. It’s also obvious that when you end this dalliance with him, it will break his heart.”   
Bean rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t care, so it won’t hurt him.”

Odval slammed a fist down on his desk. “_Listen_ for once, you foolish girl! Your father may not take you in hand, but if you break that boy’s heart, I will do whatever I can to make sure that you feel the weight of your actions.”   
“So, what, if I break up with Pendergast, you’ll make my life hell?” Bean demanded. “What the fuck, Odval?”   
“Princess, I prefer to think of it as a net good against a net bad. Pendergast being able to perform his duties properly is a _net good_—and so is you being under the thumb of a man that can actually control you. I can’t touch you, princess, but I can influence your father towards certain partners for you.”

“What, you’ll _force_ me to marry Pendergast?!”   
“What? No, of course not. He doesn’t deserve having to put up with you for the rest of his life. But he mentioned something interesting by accident yesterday—you essentially have to marry whoever your father says, because your consent means nothing in this situation. I am _this_ close to stop bothering your father about you marrying _human_ _beings_ or _vassals_, and just nod along when he says things like you should marry a bear because it can play the fiddle well.”

Bean froze. “I don’t want to be with Pendergast just because you say so. And he—you said—”   
“That I’d draw up a list for you to choose from? And I will. You might even be able to convince your father—that is, if you have a specific name and argument in mind—but then again, your aversion to commitment will stop you from choosing one.”   
“So, what?” Bean asked softly, before shouting. “He doesn’t want me! And even if he did, he wouldn’t want me like this, just with him because I’m scared of you!”

“You make a good point. I can’t force you to love him. But that wasn’t actually my point. I simply want you to take care and not break his heart. Is that a simple enough task for you? Letting him down easily?”   
Bean stared at him for a minute, before shaking her head slowly. “You asshole… you know he’s going to break up with me after the Miller wedding, right? He just needed a date.”   
“A likely excuse.” Odval scoffed, before waving at her dismissively. “Enjoy your correspondence with Princess Marianne. Perhaps she’ll teach you proper behavior.”   
Bean, who was walking towards the door, turned and glared at him, before leaving.   
Odval leaned back. “Well, she is learning something from one of them. She didn’t make any crude gestures at me.”

Thirty minutes before, Luci and Elfo had gone to the stables. Well, Luci had gone to the stables, and Elfo had followed.   
“Why are we here?” Elfo immediately asked.   
“I want to see some friends.” Luci replied.   
“Demons?” Elfo asked.

“Mm… I mean, I call ‘em Bastard and Asshole, so sure.” Luci licked his finger, and stuck it in Elfo’s ear.   
“Ewww why did you do that?!” Elfo demanded, especially since Luci then wiped his hand on Elfo’s shirt.   
“You’ll see.” Luci scampered towards the restricted section of the stables. Elfo followed.   
Luci scrabbled up on top of the partition between two particular horses. “What’s up Bastard, Asshole?”

Carrots raised his head, chewing slowly on hay. “Small Cat-thing, you’re back.”   
“Hooray.” Excelsior deadpanned from the other side of the partition.   
Elfo stared at them. This was partially because the horses were quite striking, especially next to each other. Excelsior had a golden coat that looked like dyed silk, and Carrots had jet black one. Excelsior was a hand taller than Carrots, but it was obvious that they were the two most powerful horses in the stable. And Luci was between them.

“You can _talk_?!” Elfo squawked.   
Luci sighed. “Elfo, horses are… how do I put this, seeing as I’m between two horses that bite if they get mad…? Horses are weird, fucked-up creatures that will occasionally eat meat if they can.”   
Excelsior, predictably, tried to bite. Luci dodged by dipping into Carrots’ cell, and continued. “As such, demons like me can talk to horses. And because of my wet willy, so can you. You’re welcome.”

Luci hopped back up on the partition as Pendergast, sans armor, and looking like he just got dunked in water, entered.   
“Why are you here?” Luci asked him.   
Carrots snorted. “He comes here to cool off.”   
Excelsior took a bite of hay. “He’s done the water trough thing… must’ve run into Butterscotch.”

“Butterscotch?” Elfo asked.   
Pendergast looked at him weird. “What? I didn’t say anything.”   
“We can talk to horses.” Luci said nonchalantly. “Talking cat, elf… you know how it is. Not that you answered my question.”   
Pendergast set his jaw, before answering, “Carrots lets the stableboys muck out his stall and feed him, but I’m the only one he lets touch him. I’m here to brush him.”

“Ooh, he’s touchy. Definitely ran into Butterscotch.” Excelsior huffed.   
Carrots stamped his foot as Pendergast opened his stall door. “Are you sure? My human and Butterscotch have been getting along better recently.”   
“Who is Butterscotch?!” Elfo demanded.   
“Guess.” Luci replied. “You’re the one who said her hair smells like butterscotch.”

Pendergast flushed. “Cat? Why is my horse gossiping about me and the princess?”   
“Because horses have a great sense of smell, even if you dunked your head in a trough to focus on something other than you and Bean.” Luci replied.   
Pendergast began brushing Carrots. “You’re sure it’s not because you are in here stirring shit?”

“Honestly? I was hoping Asshole would try to bite Elfo and I’d get a smell of that sweet, sweet cortisol over your stupid oxytocin clogging up the place.”   
“In other words?” Pendergast asked as Excelsior tried to bite Elfo. He didn’t, but Elfo still jumped.   
“I like the smell of stress, not the smell of love.” Luci made a face. “Thanks, Asshole.”

“He lets you call him that?!” Elfo demanded. “To his face?!”   
“It’s not an honorific?” Excelsior huffed, swinging back around to face Luci.   
Pendergast snorted. “That is the most dangerous seat in the stables with language like that.”

“You gotta have a healthy respect for them.” Luci pointed out.   
“Understandable, cat. So why don’t you go chase some mice or something and let me brush my horse in peace?”   
Luci curled up on the partition. “Nah. I’m here to torment you now that I can’t let Asshole loose to chase Elfo around. So, did you and Bean swap spit?”   
“Of course they didn’t!” Elfo huffed.

Pendergast didn’t answer, though Luci could see the tips of his ears turn red.   
“They’ve definitely been touching. Why do you have to ask?” Carrots swallowed his hay.   
“I like seeing his reaction.” Luci replied, “Hey, Pendergast, where’d you get that hickey?”

“HICKEY?” Elfo repeated.   
Pendergast’s hand immediately clapped to his neck. “Hickey? What hickey?”   
Luci cackled. “I didn’t actually see anything, but you just confirmed it. C’mon, Elfo. Let’s go needle Bean about this. Oh, and Pendergast? Here’s a tip. Sensitive ear lobes. It’s why she doesn’t wear earrings that often. Okay, let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "that Maleen girl" Zog mentions off-handedly is from a story (also by the Brothers Grimm!) called Maid Maleen. She was a princess who wanted to marry a certain guy, her father said no. She refused to marry anyone else, he locked her up in a tower for seven years. (Plot twist: the kingdom was destroyed while she was in the tower for seven years, and then she had to chip her way out with a spoon. At this point in their respective stories, Maid Maleen is still in the tower-- so she's still something kings can use as a threat to other princesses.)


	9. When it rains it is Wet Dreamland?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pendergast's dream is, as the title of the chapter implies, NSFW. If you don't want to read that, skip from, "Pendergast dreamed vividly that night, for the first time in a while" to "He woke up to someone knocking on the door."

Pendergast dreamed vividly that night, for the first time in a while.

The princess was on his bed, except… she wasn’t exactly clothed. At all. And she seemed perfectly fine with that. “Pen? Can you help me out?”   
“Anything, princess.” He responded.   
“Kiss me.”

He did. He pulled her to him—and this time, he wasn’t interested in chastity or being gentle. He kissed her hungrily, feeling her climb into his lap to be closer to him. This time, he was the one who broke away to bite. He scraped his teeth along her earlobe, hearing her gasp in pleasure. Then he moved down, alternating kisses and bites, until he got to something he most certainly wasn’t supposed to bite.

He looked up at her, and she smirked. “I told you to kiss me, Pen.”   
So he did. He kissed, and licked, and worked until her legs trembled and she was incredibly slick. And then she flipped him over, straddling him with a wicked smile. He found he didn’t necessarily mind—his hips bucked when their hips met, drawing another gasp out of her, while his hand found its way somewhere… sensitive.

“Pe-en.” She gave a drawn out whine. “What if I was just trying to get you to c…?” She trailed off, biting her lip as his fingers got faster.   
“What was that, princess?” He whispered huskily. “I couldn’t hear you. Say it again.” He sat up, giving him a bit more control as they leaned up against the headboard.   
Speech was a bit outside her capabilities for now, so she settled for biting his shoulder to stifle her moans.

“I w-want…”   
“Anything, princess.”   
“I want you to-to… please?”   
“Please, what?”   
“Please cum.” She whispered.   
“Well, I told you anything…”

He woke up to someone knocking on the door.

Bean dreamed vividly that night as well. Unlike Pendergast, it wasn’t pleasant.

In her dream, she was back in her wedding dress at the cathedral. “Where is everybody?” She poked her head out of the side room, only to run into Odval. “There you are, princess. We’ve reinforced the windows this time.”   
“What are you doing here?!” She demanded.   
“As your brother’s guardian with your father dead, I’m able to walk you down the aisle.” Odval gave a slight bow.

“What?! My father’s not dead!” Bean shot back.   
“He is.” Odval handed her a bloody knife. “Don’t you remember what you did?”   
There was a sudden jump, and they were at the end of the aisle. Bean struggled, but Odval had an iron grip. “Luci? Elfo? Where are you guys?”

She looked around. All around, there were skeletons of people she knew—Beebaw, Bunty, her mother, Merkimer, Luci, Elfo… all sitting forward, grinning skulls fixed towards the altar. “Guys?”   
She looked down. Her foot was on top of Gretel’s face—and there was Guysbert, and Princess Marianne’s husband, and Sven, and her father.   
She turned to look at Odval. “What is this?!”

“You killed them.” Odval said, his flesh melting off of him. “You killed them all.”   
“I didn’t!” Bean insisted. “I had to!”   
Odval kept walking her to the end of the aisle, his grip still unbreakable even as his flesh rotted away.

She finally managed to break away as his hand turned to nothing, whirling to face the groom. A huge bear swiped at her. She tried to run, but tripped on her stupid big dress. The walls were growing darker and larger as it approached. And then she remembered the knife Odval had given her. It was in her hand now, even if it had been abandoned earlier, and she stabbed up and—

Pendergast stumbled back, clutching at his ribs. “Prin…cess?”   
She got to her feet as he fell. “Pen? Pen, wake up! I didn’t know it was you!”   
He cupped her face, smearing it with blood. And then he was dead, just like everyone else in Dreamland. And she was alone.

And that’s when she woke up to a boom of thunder. She shuddered, feeling cold to her bones. Rain splashed outside, and she could see the rise and fall of Luci and Elfo’s chests. She slid her boots on—she needed to see him. She needed to make sure. It was easy enough to avoid the night guards, and slip down to the barracks.

She knocked on his door, shivering in the rain. He had to be in there. She knocked harder, and suddenly the door swung open.   
“Princess?” Pendergast yawned. “What time is it?”   
She lurched forward, and hugged him. “Asshole.”

“What did I do?” Pendergast asked groggily.   
Bean pulled back and wiped at her eyes. “I dreamed I killed you.”   
“And this couldn’t wait until morning?” Pendergast asked.   
A flash of lightning illuminated them both, and he reflexively clapped a hand over his bad eye.   
Bean shivered again. “G-get over yourself. It’s not that bad.”

He sighed. “Come in.”   
She did, and he got a blanket down from the top of his closet. “Here, towel yourself off with this.”   
She did to the best of her ability, but her nightgown was still soaked through. He flushed, and offered her his shirt he’d slung over a nearby chair.   
“I’m not wearing anything under this.” She pointed out.   
Even if they couldn’t see colour very well, she could tell he turned bright right before he turned around.

She smirked, and changed, before stepping out of her boots. It came down past her hips, so hopefully he wouldn’t die of a heart attack.   
“Done.” She said.   
He turned around, and she stepped close, running a hand over his bare chest.   
“Princess…” He hissed. “You do realize you’re alone in my room, right? This could very well end badly for your hymen.”

She ran her hand along until she could feel his heart beating directly beneath her fingers, and stopped there, pressing her hand to his chest. “I don’t mind. Besides, aren’t you an honorable knight?”   
“An honorable knight who has to be up at dawn and can’t get kicked out of his own room.” Pendergast griped.   
Bean’s eyes went wide. “Can’t I stay? The bed seems big enough for both of us.”

“…face the other way.” Pendergast huffed.   
She shook her head. “It’s really not that bad, Pen. I’m just glad you’re alive.”   
He pulled her close. “It was just a dream, you know that? I’m fine, you’re fine…”   
“The thought of you dying—the thought of me _killing_ you! It still fucked me up. Because whatever else, you’re always supposed to _be_ here.” She said into his chest.

“Princess… Bean… I’ll always be here for you.” He said, before a massive yawn ripped out of his mouth. “Please get into bed.”   
She yawned as well, and got under the covers. She was about to drift over to his warm side when he retook it, staying on top of the covers she was under and curling up under the wet blanket.

“You’re going to catch your death of cold, just join me.” Bean said sleepily. “Besides, you’re so warm.”   
“That is an incredibly bad idea.”   
“Then I’m making it a royal order. And move the wet blanket so it doesn’t seep through.”

He sighed, and shifted the blanket before joining her under the covers. “Better, princess?”   
She turned to face him, and snuggled into his chest. “Much better.”   
“It’s a big bed. You don’t have to get so close.”   
“Do you not want me close?”   
“That’s not what I said…” He yawned again, before raising the arm facing her. She immediately laid on his chest, and he wrapped the arm around her, gently running it over her back.

“Why d’you have such a big bed anyway? Visitors?” She muttered sleepily.   
He chuckled. “Just you. Inherited from the previous captain of the guard. He had… visitors.”   
“Did you change the mattress?”   
“First thing I did when I got my paycheck.” Pendergast twirled a lock of her hair around his index finger. “Good night, Bean.”   
“Good night, Pen.”

He was asleep almost instantly, habit combining with the sound of the rain and the heat off of her body to lull him to sleep. She took a minute longer—not because the sound of his heartbeat wasn’t trying to soothe her to sleep, not because she wasn’t warm and comfortable, but because she’d realized something. Well, several somethings.

One, he’d clearly been having a very… good dream. She wasn’t going to judge, she’d had dreams like that before. …mostly about him, she was now realizing. Okay, another realization. The point was, he probably wasn’t dreaming about her. And that thought hurt her heart so badly she had to stifle a gasp so she wouldn’t wake up Pendergast. As in, it physically hurt her chest.

This led her to her second—maybe third, Bean wasn’t good at math—realization. She had immediately gone to him for comfort. She loved spending time with him, and she felt _safe_ and even better, like she wasn’t a pest around him. Like he actually valued her presence. She never wanted it to go away, she wanted to stay in his arms forever. She loved him. And he didn’t love her back.  
That was when he shifted onto his side, pulling her towards his chest. “I can hear you thinking. Shh.” He muttered. Okay, maybe he wasn’t asleep. She nestled down and let herself drift off to sleep.

Pendergast woke up at dawn. Normally, he would have gotten dressed and ready for the day, except now he had a slight problem. Half his clothes were already in bed, being worn by someone who was now draped over his chest. And he had to wake her up, _but_… seeing his eye in the dawn’s light was different to seeing it in a flash of light.

This was stupid. He needed her to wake up and get back to her room before anyone realized she was missing and he was killed for it. Never mind that he hadn’t laid a hand on her, she’d been in his bed all night, wearing his clothes without anything underneath—and didn’t that send a shameful thrill through him? Not that he would have done anything, but some terrible part of him was practically smirking at the fact that there she was, all his. What better claim could he have than her wrapped in _his_ clothes, in _his_ bed?

Except she wasn’t his. She never would be. And the problem of her waking up was still there. Was he seriously weighing his ego over his life? Never mind his life, her reputation would be ruined. There—it wasn’t just about him, and that stirred him to shake her gently instead of falling back asleep beside her. “Bean, wake up.”   
“Noooo…” She whined. “Too early.”

“You have to get back to your bed.”   
She buried her face in his chest. “I’m in bed.”   
“You’re in _my_ bed. Get back to your own.”   
“Comfy…” She muttered.

“I have to get up now anyway. If you go now, you’ll get by the night shift without trouble.”   
“Wanna stay.”   
He shook her again. “Princess, come on. For both our sakes, you need to get back to your own bed.”   
She finally stirred, and looked blearily at his face, before dropping her head back down to his shoulder. He froze, and she made an annoyed noise. “You’re not a good pillow when you’re worried, Pen.”   
“I’m not supposed to be a good pillow right now, princess.” He huffed. “You’re supposed to be getting up.”

“You’re being mean…”   
“I’m not being mean!” Pendergast huffed. “You can go back to sleep in your own bed.”   
Bean yawned, and he shook her again. “Come on, up you get.”   
Sighing, she finally sat up, rubbing her eyes.   
He tried to sit up and grab his eyepatch, but she put her hand over his. “I told you, it’s not that bad. You don’t have to hide it with me.”

Pendergast’s eye lid had been stitched closed along where it would have opened otherwise. The stitches were long gone, but the scar remained. It hadn’t sunken, so there was something propping it up in the socket, but it still wasn’t necessarily a pretty sight. Bean propped herself up on her knees, leaning up to kiss it gently. “It’s _fine_, Pen. Would I lie to you?”

“You did just call me mean for trying to protect your reputation.” Pendergast said, though he was smiling.   
She kissed him on the forehead. “Asshole.”   
“I’m an asshole who has to work, princess. And I need my shirt to do that.”   
Bean blinked at him. “How is me getting naked in your bed supposed to help my reputation?”

Pendergast flushed. “I was planning on you getting changed back into your nightgown.”   
Bean grinned at him. “Yeah, I guessed as much.” She hopped out of the bed, going over to the chair and handing him his breeches before grabbing her nightgown. They changed facing away from each other—him pulling his breeches on over his underclothes, her sneaking peeks at his back while she changed out of his shirt. She finally handed it back to him. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

“Thanks for returning it warm.” He smiled.   
“Maybe I can borrow it again sometime?” She asked, sitting on the edge of the bed to put on her boots.   
“Only if your nightgown will not work for you.” He said, leaning over her. She could feel heat radiating off of him, and for a second, she thought she could feel him press his lips to the top of her head. But then it was gone, just as quickly as it came.

She stood up. “See you later.”   
“Of course, princess.”   
She managed to get back to her room without anyone seeing her. She took off her boots and collapsed onto the bed.

“Oh my God, it’s too early for this…” Luci whined.   
Elfo shot upright. “I saw a ghost last night.”   
“Definitely too early.” Luci buried his face in a pillow.

“No, it’s true! She was all white, and I couldn’t see her feet! She went into the barracks!”   
“Right, and this has nothing to do with how Bean, who has white hair and a white nightgown and dark boots when it was raining last night, and who smells like Pendergast?” Luci huffed. “Idiot.”

“Wow, did _not_ expect you guys to find out that quickly.” Bean said, covering a yawn.   
Luci kneaded the blanket. “I mean, it’s almost covered by the fact that you apparently took a flash dip in feelings, but yeah, I can smell him all over you. I’m guessing you finally gave in and fucked?”   
“Flash dip in feelings is what we call skinny dipping in the Love River.” Elfo piped up. “And also, no she didn’t!”

“What a terrible metaphor. I’m stealing that.” Luci stretched like a cat.   
“We didn’t _fuck_.” Bean hissed.   
“See?” Elfo said triumphantly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you gigantic nerd. I guess you _gave in_ and _made love_. Happy now, you sappy idiot?” Luci said.   
Bean threw a pillow at him, knocking him off of the bed. “We didn’t have sex! We just cuddled.”   
“You could have cuddled with us.” Elfo said.   
“Not now, Elfo. Actually interesting things are happening.” Luci hopped back up on the bed. “So, you’re telling us you smell like you’ve spent the night with Pendergast, you smell like you have deep feelings for him, and you smell like sexual desire, but nothing happened? Bullshit.”

“He doesn’t like me like that!”   
Luci laughed so hard he fell off of the bed again. “That’s a good one. Any other ones?”   
“Bean doesn’t like him!” Elfo said.   
“Nah, when you say it, it’s just sad.” Luci said, crawling back up onto the bed.   
Bean was flushing. “I smell like _what_?!”

Luci bounded over to her. “You smell like oxytocin, which we’ve already established. You smell like Pendergast—specifically Pendergast’s sweat, even though he showered last night. You smell like the rain, but that’s mostly off of your nightgown which doesn’t match the rest of you. You took it off. And you, my dear friend, smell like you either had sexual desire, or rubbed up against someone who very much did, which can only be Pendergast. …actually, yeah, smells more like him than you in that case. Which brings me to my conclusion. You, in love with Pendergast, went down to his room, spent the night there with your nightgown off, and Pendergast, who’s in love with you and very clearly had something else going on, _didn’t_ have sex with you?”

“Of course he didn’t.” Bean snapped, flicking him on the nose. “And keep your creepy nose out of my life. Pen’s not like that. You’re forgetting the fact that he _doesn’t_ like me like that. He’s a good guy. He’s honorable. He didn’t touch me like that—he just gave me his shirt to sleep in because my nightgown was soaked through—and he doesn’t deserve you dragging his name through the mud!”   
Luci rubbed his nose. “Owww… too early for this.”   
“Agreed, let’s all just go back to sleep.” Bean muttered, pulling a pillow off of the ground and covering her face with it.   
They were all asleep again in minutes.

Elsewhere, what used to be a man shuffled into town, and entered an inn. “I need somewhere to stay.”   
The innkeeper tried not to stare. It was the size of a man, covered in hair that was coarse and bristly. Bleary human eyes stared at the innkeeper. There was dirt and soot all over it, and it had a soldier’s pack on its back, and a fiddle slung around its waist. The innkeeper wasn’t sure if it was even wearing clothes, or just rags it had found somewhere to mimic a human appearance.

“Uh… I’m sorry, but I can’t. You’d scare all the other guests.” The innkeeper said, wanting this thing as far away from him as possible. It smelled like fear and fire, and it very well could have just been a bear.   
The thing took its pack off and opened it to a pile of gold. “I can pay.” 

The innkeeper wasn’t a rich man. Not many people wanted to come to Dreamland, even less wanted to stay at his inn. Incredibly few would stay at his inn with that kind of money. “You can stay here as long as you want, sir. …may I ask your business in Dreamland?”   
The thing placed more money on the counter. “You may not.”   
The innkeeper stared at the money. “…first door on your left, sir.”   
The thing didn’t answer, but it loped away towards the room.

“Sir?” The innkeeper called out. “What should I put you down as? In the record book?”   
The thing turned. “I am the devil’s sooty brother, and your king as well.” Then it turned back to its task. The innkeeper shuddered and took its money, feeling as though the devil had a grip on his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGF Pendergast: "Who are you?"  
TVoN Pendergast: "I'm you, but I can actually have sex."


	10. In case you were worried Pendergast was in fact, not the smartest knight

Edgar and Mortimer were terrified, and what’s more, Mertz and Turbish didn’t have the sense to be. Clearly, witches had come in the night and stolen Pendergast away or something, replacing him with… this. (Mortimer’s theory was that he was cursed.)

The reason for this was clear. Pendergast was not paying attention to their training. He was leaning up against the wall with a goofy smile on his face. Pendergast didn’t smile. The answer was clear—witches.   
“What do we tell the princess?” Edgar breathed, worriedly looking at Not-Pendergast. Real Pendergast had ears like a bat and no tolerance for gossip.   
“True love’s kiss might fix him.” Mortimer said back, just as quietly.

“For the last time, it _can’t_ fix him if he’s a homunculus.” Edgar replied.   
“I still think it’d be easier just to curse him.”   
“That’s what they _want_ you to think. Real Pendergast is probably in a cell somewhere. Easier to keep an eye on a homunculus and the real man when curses can be easily broken.”   
“So we agree that the princess is his true love?”

“That’s above my paygrade. …we should probably go get her, though. If anyone can fix this, she can.”   
“Who goes and who stays?” Mortimer asked.   
Edgar risked a glance at Not-Pendergast, who was now goofily smiling at the sky. “Let’s both fake an injury. Turbish and Mertz can stay here. Just follow my lead.”

Edgar then clutched his leg and screamed. “Oh my god, my leg!”   
“Oh my god, his leg!” Mortimer repeated.   
“Oh, the humanity!” Edgar yelled, passing his hand over his eyes briefly before returning to clutching his leg and hopping around.   
“This man needs a doctor!” Mortimer added.

“I must carry on my duty!” Edgar said, trying to act brave-but-in-incredible-pain.   
The other knights were approaching now.   
“Your leg looks fine.” Turbish pointed out.   
“Your duty of training?” Mertz looked confused.

Not-Pendergast was now glaring just like the real Pendergast. “Edgar, Mortimer, get back to training.”   
Edgar let himself fall to the ground. “But sir, my leg! Oh, I can see it all going dark—Mortimer, tell my mother I died in battle!”   
Mortimer grasped his hand. “Stay strong, Edgar. You might yet live if we can get you to a doctor.”   
“What did you die in battle with, Edgar? A training dummy?” Not-Pendergast snarked. Edgar had to hand it to the witches. If Not-Pendergast hadn’t started smiling, they never would have guessed.

Edgar reached out a hand. “Father…? Is that you…? But you’ve been dead these past fourteen years? How can I hear you now?”   
Mortimer bowed his head. “Oh God, if only we could have saved you.”   
“You know, I expected this from Stryker and Bolt, but not you two.” Not-Pendergast crossed his arms. “You do realize if you keep up this charade in front of a real doctor, his leg will get amputated?”

Mortimer leaned over and banged a fist on Edgar’s breastplate. “Oh, cruel world… why take Edgar? He was so young…”   
“You two could have just asked for a break. Now Edgar’s going to have to keep pretending to be dead as they throw him in the plague pit.”

Edgar sat up, and pointed an accusing finger in Not-Pendergast’s face. “Ha! There we go! The _real_ Pendergast never would have let us have a break!”   
Not-Pendergast was not amused. “Well, I’m certainly not going to let you have one _now_. But what is this? You need to use the bathroom? I’d prefer it to you two pissing in your armor.”   
“Once again, I think he’s the real Pendergast, just cursed.” Mortimer added.

Turbish and Mertz, as always, looked incredibly confused.   
Not-Pendergast looked somewhat taken aback, before he pinched the bridge of his nose. “And _why_ do you idiots think I’m cursed? Or… what was yours, Edgar?”   
“A homunculus replacement by witches to replace the _real_ Pendergast.” Edgar hissed.   
“Right.” Not-Pendergast said.

“It’s because you were smiling.” Mortimer said.   
“Don’t say it like that! It sounds bad when you say it like that!” Edgar growled.   
Not-Pendergast took a deep breath and clearly counted to ten in his mind before replying. “Has it occurred to either of you idiots that, until you decided to try and convince me that you missed your calling as actors, I was simply happy?”

“Ha! Exactly what a homunculus would say!” Edgar scoffed, getting to his feet.   
“And since you’re convinced I’m a homunculus—”   
“Or cursed.” Mortimer interrupted.  
“And nothing I say will dissuade you of that, what was your plan?”

“Get the princess, and hope she’d fix it.” Mortimer shrugged.   
Not-Pendergast ground his teeth. Edgar wasn’t worried. Real Pendergast would commend him for seeing through the façade. “So, you were under the impression that I was a dangerous person. And instead of doing anything about it yourselves, you were going to hide behind the princess. A _woman_, and one you’re sworn to protect at that.”

“Aw, pot, kettle, Pen.” A new voice called.   
Pendergast turned to reveal the princess. “I have never purposefully put you in danger.”   
She cocked her head. “And didn’t you also say I could handle myself?”   
“Run, princess. He’s been bewitched.” Mortimer tried.

“Oh, _now_ you’re trying to do your job.” Pendergast huffed. “Too little, too late. As for you, princess, you… well, you need more self-defense training, but the two situations aren’t the same. These two idiots were going to go running to you to solve a situation that they thought they couldn’t handle. Trained knights in actual armor…” He shook his head derisively.

“Okay, in my defense, Real Pendergast is scary. Presumably the witches who replaced him with you included his fighting prowess.” Edgar said, crossing his arms.   
Bean looked at Pendergast. “Okay, what are they talking about?”   
Pendergast pinched the bridge of his nose. “The idiots think that because I was in a good mood this morning, I’m either a fake version of myself, or cursed. So about that self-defense training…”

Bean grinned. “No, go back to the good mood thing.”   
Pendergast stared at her. “You don’t honestly believe I’m…?”   
“Maybe true love’s kiss would fix him?” Mortimer suggested quietly.   
Bean flushed, and Pendergast glared at him.   
Bean scratched the back of her neck. “I… didn’t mean that you’re cursed. I just want to talk about why you’re in such a good mood. Slept well?”

Pendergast flushed, which was further proof for Edgar that he was Not-Pendergast. Why would Real Pendergast get flustered over such an innocuous question? Mortimer looked between Pendergast and the princess, and was struck with a sudden, terrible realization. That _was_ Pendergast, and somehow, in a moment of weakness, he’d done the unthinkable. Pendergast didn’t talk about his family, and he didn’t use his surname—both indicators that he wasn’t… particularly noble. Pendergast couldn’t marry the princess, and Zog wouldn’t let whatever happened stand.

Mortimer needed to forget this information immediately.   
“I could ask you the same question, princess.” Pendergast said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re up earlier than usual. And where are your friends?”   
Bean looked up at her tower. “Well… Elfo was being… Elfo and Luci was being a dick, so… I thought I’d come see you. We never did finish that self-defense lesson.”   
“Aren’t you concerned with Pendergast being—” Edgar was abruptly cut off by Mortimer clapping a hand over his mouth. “It’s his leg wound, sir. It’s infected his brain.”

Pendergast sighed. “God, you’d think you two would get the message about latrine duty, wouldn’t you?” He pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, before saying, “If I let you two screw off to deal with your idiocy, will you? Because clearly extra latrine duty won’t work.”   
“Ha! Yet more evidence that you’re not actually Pendergast!” Edgar grinned.   
Pendergast stared at him levelly. “No, because what happens next time is I discipline you both properly since nothing else is working.”

“Thank you, sir.” Mortimer propelled Edgar out of the courtyard.   
“Mortimer, don’t tell me you’ve gone to the dark side!” Bean and Pendergast heard Edgar yell. “Fight it! _Fight it_!”   
Bean laughed. “Is it always like this?”   
“Unfortunately.” Pendergast sighed, before smiling at her. “Seeing you has been the highlight of my day.”

“Aw, sappy.” She grinned. “What did they mean about you being cursed? With the good mood thing? You’re in a good mood all the time.”   
Pendergast cracked a smile. “Brilliant observation skills, princess. It’s… I can relax around you, but if I relax around them, I’m not doing my job.”   
“You could just say you like spending time with me, dork.”   
Pendergast laughed. “Alright, then I like spending time with you.”

She grinned. “Dork.”   
“Your dork, princess. Until Friday.”   
The smile slipped off her face. “Maybe… you could still be my dork?”   
He smiled in a way that seemed almost sad. “Princess… Bean… I’ll always be in your service. My life is yours.”

Bean grabbed his hand. “Hey, don’t focus on that! I don’t want your life, I just want self-defense. Especially if you’re saying stuff like what you said to the soldiers.”   
Pendergast crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “What, that you can’t take on an armed knight with years of experience? How terrible of me.”   
Bean made a face at him. “Maybe not, but I can take _you_ on.”

“And how does that description not apply to me?”   
“Because you’d never hurt me.” Bean stepped close to him.  
“And if I were cursed?” Pendergast asked, his eye flicking to her lips. “Or… not myself? Why is it so bad that I’d want you to go for help if there was a situation you couldn’t handle?”

Bean grinned. “Because I can handle more than you think. If you get cursed or something, I’ll find my way out of it. I always do.”   
Pendergast shook his head. “Luck won’t always save you, Bean.”   
“That’s why I have you.”

Pendergast smiled, despite himself. “Flatterer. Fine, let me change out of my armor.”   
They spent the day together, talking, laughing, and Pendergast doing his absolute best to actually teach her.   
Odval passed by a window overlooking the courtyard, and noticed them. “This is not going to end well…”   
“Agreed! He’s just going to break her heart!” Elfo, who had totally been spying on them from the same window piped up.

Odval scoffed. “She has a heart?”   
Elfo glared at him. “Bean is wonderful! She’s good, and kind, and he doesn’t deserve her!”   
In the courtyard, Bean managed to throw Pendergast. She gasped, but then he sat up. Their smiles were visible even to Odval and Elfo. “Clearly we’re not talking about the same woman. But you’re right. Pendergast doesn’t deserve to be burdened with her.”

“You always say such mean things about her!” Elfo yelled. “She’s not like that!”   
“You have a lot to learn about human society, elf. And you have a lot to learn about the princess as a _person_, not this… ideal you’ve placed on a pedestal. Tell me, Pygmalion, what will you do when your statue comes to life?”   
“What?” Elfo asked.

Odval sighed. “I see that went right over your head, just like the princess’ eye line. I’d send you in to effectively stop Pendergast from ruining his life, but something tells me if you could stop him from being with the princess, you would have done so already.”   
“Hey! I wasn’t awake last night, or I would have stopped her from going to his room!”   
Mortimer, who entered at that moment on patrol, visibly winced.

“What.” Odval’s voice was low. “Did you just say.”   
Mortimer turned on his heel, but unfortunately, the clank of armor on pavement gave him away.   
“Don’t try and run, Mortimer. Did you know about this?” Odval continued.

“I… guessed. Pendergast was in a good mood today. It weirded us out. I… I don’t want anything to happen to him. It’s not his fault.” Mortimer said quickly.   
Odval turned his attention back to the courtyard. Pendergast had picked up Bean and tossed her into a nearby pile of hay used to restuff the dummies. Her expression when she emerged had him nearly doubled over with laughter.

“No, it isn’t…” Odval mused. “Listen to me. Neither of you are to speak a word of this. If God is willing, there will not be… a new member of the royal family.”   
“What?” Elfo said again, while Mortimer paled.   
Odval patted Elfo on the head. “Listen, elf. Speak of this to Zog, and your… plans… for Tiabeanie immediately go down the drain. At best, he’d pick a husband for her off of the list of vassals. At worst, he’d… well. What usually happens to princesses who fall pregnant out of wedlock? Especially one so involved in the public eye as Tiabeanie? It would be her reputation over the kingdom’s, and she’d be left to the wolves while that poor boy would be… kissing the hangman’s daughter, so to speak.”

Mortimer somehow paled further.   
“Who’s the hangman’s daughter?” Elfo asked.   
“It’s an expression, you fool. It means he’d be hanged.” Odval snapped, before rubbing his temples. “Clearly, Tiabeanie chose to flaunt my warning. Hopefully, Mortimer will succeed where you and I have failed, elf.”   
“What, me? I’m not getting in the middle of that.” Mortimer said quickly. “Pendergast will kill me.”

“I’m not asking you to seduce her—one knight has already been sacrificed to her wicked ways, and that’s one knight too many—I’m asking you to get inside his head and let him realize that they can never be together.” Odval hissed. “Now, none of us will tell Zog about… the incident. He would do something rash, and we don’t want rash in a situation as… delicate as this. Elf, report to me if the princess goes somewhere unsavory—perhaps buys a certain potion from the apothecary, perhaps visits a back-alley witch.”

“So… just spy on Bean and report back to you?” Elfo asked skeptically. “That won’t make her like me.”   
“Consider this, elf. What you’ve been doing currently hasn’t made her like you either. This way, you can protect her. …and yes, general reports are probably best.” Odval made a shooing motion. “Now go, before Pendergast makes more mistakes.”   
Elfo left.   
Odval nodded at Mortimer, who saluted and clanked away.

Odval then left himself. The fourth person who had been there slunk out of the shadows. He had, for the most part, been content with a long and complex plan to torment Elfo by making him think he was being haunted by the ghost of Bean’s grandmother. But this? This was… more.

Luci, for that was the fourth person, scurried up to the windowsill. Bean had since tackled Pendergast into the pile of hay, and they were both laughing and picking hay out of their hair. He… didn’t get it. Not really. The concept of love. Demons couldn’t really do it.

But, demons could do friendship. And he could help. Besides, Odval made it sound like bad, awful stuff would happen if Bean and Pendergast _actually_ got together. That’s how Luci could justify it if his bosses asked. So no, he didn’t get love, but because Bean was his friend, it didn’t matter if he did or not. He could clearly see she was in love with a good man who loved her back. And wasn’t that what mattered most?

God, he needed to go kick a puppy or something to make up for being so _nice_. Blegh. Helping friends? Disgusting. Helping two people find love? Awful. Getting Bean to make better decisions and be with a man that not only wouldn’t ruin her life, he’d do everything in his power to make it actively better? God, who even _was_ Luci anymore? She better appreciate this. He was going to _make_ them name a child after him if they cost him his job like this. Assholes. With that last thought, he scampered back into the shadows. He had work to do. Thank God he finally had a worthy opponent to work against instead of just messing with Elfo.


	11. Mortimer don't be weird

Mortimer’s plan was flawless, as long as he pointedly ignored all the flaws in it. Essentially, Pendergast was good and virtuous. And the princess was apparently not, because putting the impetus on her to change was easier than reevaluating himself and his biases. But, Pendergast was so devoted to his job that he didn’t get to meet many virtuous single women.

Which was why Mortimer was walking his sister up to the castle the day after talking to Odval. If this didn’t work, he really didn’t know what to do.   
“Where are we going?” Emily asked.   
“Sh. Trust me.” Mortimer said.   
Pendergast was, predictably, in the courtyard. Perfect, he wasn’t in armor. Bulky armor hid the male form and from an aesthetic point of view (because Mortimer wasn’t a monster, he wanted his sister to be happy). And she also had to like Pendergast for this to work.

“Mortimer, there you are—” Pendergast began, looking up from the inventory he’d been checking.   
Mortimer bowed deeply. The woman next to him, who had some of the same dark hair peeking out from under her headdress, followed his lead.

“Sir, this is my younger sister Emily. Since our parents died of plague, I’ve been responsible for her.”   
“O…kay?” Pendergast said.   
Mortimer straightened, and put his hands on Emily’s shoulders. “She is a diligent worker, incredibly chaste, humble, pious, and she does not talk back at all.”   
Emily very much looked like she wanted to talk back, but seemed to be holding her tongue.   
Pendergast glanced between the siblings. “…okay? Why is she here?”

Mortimer bowed deeply again. “Sir Pendergast, my sister is of marrying age.”   
“Yes?” Pendergast was so deeply confused. Did Mortimer want him to find a husband for the sister? _Why_?   
“She has a dowry of fourteen gold Zogs, and I have every reason to believe that she is strong and would survive childbirth.”

Emily turned red. “Mortimer!”   
Mortimer took a deep breath, then said, “Sir, I would be honored if you considered marrying my sister.”   
“Oh.” Pendergast didn’t have time to say, ‘absolutely not’ before Mortimer shoved Emily at him and ran away. He grabbed her hands to prevent her from falling on the ground—surely this was embarrassing enough for her, flushing with embarrassment himself.

“Um… are you alright?” Pendergast asked. No need to not be chivalrous.   
Emily stepped back, still blushing. “That… I wondered why he wouldn’t tell me why we were going to the castle.”   
“Don’t be, you’re a victim as well.”

Emily laughed. “You must think I’m desperate, that my brother has to try and _sell_ me to a man who is clearly not interested.”   
“Is it that obvious?” Pendergast thought he saw a flash of white hair out of the corner of his eye, immediately he started searching the upper windows of the castle overlooking the courtyard.   
“I was at the harvest festival.” Emily sighed. “It… I saw you two looking at each other. I saw you two _dancing_ together. Even now, you’re looking for her.”

Pendergast smiled sheepishly. “It’s… the world seems less colourful without her nearby.”   
“I understand.” Emily said. “Contrary to Mortimer’s belief, I’m not so desperate as to have only what my brother sets up for me for my marriage prospects.”   
Pendergast raised an eyebrow. “What happened to chastity in his list of your attributes?”

Emily shot him a searching look. “If you say such things to the princess, she must _really_ like you.”   
“I didn’t mean to offend.”   
“I know you didn’t. That’s why I’m still talking to you. I’m not a-a… _base whore_, Sir Pendergast. I can fall in love without sex coming into it. And what if it did? What if I had sex with the person I was going to marry anyway? Why would I be a slut but Sir Edgar, who I know has a fondness for women of the night, gets no disciplinary action?”

Pendergast pinched the bridge of his nose. “In fairness, I have been meaning to talk to Edgar about the… women of the night, as you call them.”   
Emily gave a sharp laugh. “Ah yes, because that would be equal. Do you ever wonder why some women don’t remarry after their husbands pass?”   
“Out of respect and love for the men they married.”

Emily shook her head. “No, that’s what they want you to think. I’m sure some _did_ love and respect their husbands, but others? Widows aren’t under the control of a husband, but they have the place of married women in society. I… rely on my brother a lot, Sir Pendergast. He gives me money, protects my reputation, he protects _me_. In return, he owns me until I get married. That’s it. Being a woman means that you pass from man to man.”   
Pendergast pondered this for a minute. “…that’s why Lady Lingonberry didn’t wear mourning colours for as long as proper?”

Emily stared at him. “You didn’t _say_ anything to her, did you?”   
“No! No. I thought about it.” Pendergast admitted.   
Emily sighed. “You… seem genuinely ignorant, instead of wanting to ignore it like most men. But inviting this kind of conversation is releasing a lot of thoughts I shouldn’t be telling you. That’s dangerous.”   
“Why?” Pendergast asked.   
“Because I’m not the princess, and if I get too comfortable and say the wrong thing to the wrong man, they’ll kill me.” Emily shook her head again. “Look, I don’t expect you to understand, and I’m not looking to change your worldview. I’m… I’m just trying to… when I started this conversation with you, I wanted to… convince you that you shouldn’t blame Mortimer, in a way. Slowly steer you towards the outcome I wanted.”

“That’s dishonest.”   
“You’re a man in a position of power. If you were to…” Emily trailed off, biting her lip. “I’m glad that you are who you are, Sir Pendergast. I’m glad that you’re willing to listen. But I need to protect my brother the only way I can, and the only weapon I have is words. You’re a powerful man, and I don’t want Mortimer to get in trouble because he was trying to protect me.”   
Pendergast watched her for a minute. “And what, exactly, would you do to protect your brother?”

“Anything. He’s all I have.” Emily said.   
“Anything?” Pendergast asked, cocking his head.   
Emily nodded once, watching him warily.   
Pendergast looked away. “I wouldn’t go so far for my brother. Mortimer’s lucky to have a sister like you—but I’ll only overlook this once.”

“Thank you, Sir Pendergast.”   
He waved her off. “For what? For not marrying you?”   
“For forgiving my brother for meddling.”   
Pendergast shrugged. “Yesterday he was saying I was cursed because I was smiling, so this is an improvement. I’m sorry that he tried to use you as a peace offering.”   
Emily winced. “I… don’t know how to react to that. How much trouble is he in?”   
“None. But the next time he and Edgar pull this shit, they’re getting disciplined—and no amount of begging will stop that.” He purposefully loomed over her, glaring.

She nodded once, before turning and leaving.   
Mortimer quickly reappeared. “Where’s my sister?”   
Pendergast shrugged. “Despite your best efforts, I am not her keeper.”   
“Ah. Well, you were left alone with my sister, unchaperoned…”   
“Not happening, Mortimer.” Pendergast said.

That was when Luci popped up. “Hey, asshole. I need you to come with me.”   
“What’s up, small cat creature?” Mortimer asked.   
“Not you, irrelevant. Him.” Luci pointed at Pendergast.   
“Usually, your name-calling is better.” Pendergast replied.

“Yeah, well, I’m in a rush. C’mon. I need you for something, it’s about Bean.”   
Of course Pendergast followed him. Luci led hm to an open broom closet, and opened the door for him. “I don’t see the princess—”   
Luci then pushed him in and shut the door. “Ha! Sucker! Wait there while I go get Bean, okay?”   
Pendergast pounded on the door. “Let me out!”   
“Sorry, what was that?” Luci cackled. “’Thank you Luci for fixing my dumbass mistake’? Aw, Pendergast, you’re welcome.”

The door shuddered. “CAT!”   
Luci then took the opportunity to scurry away.   
Meanwhile, Bean had indeed passed by earlier. She had heard all of what Mortimer had said, though her mind was stuck on “…considered marrying my sister.” And she saw Mortimer shove his sister at Pendergast, who flushed and caught her. The sister was also blushing. She could hear her heartbeat roaring in her ears—why was Mortimer’s sister laughing?

Oh God. She’d let herself believe Luci for a minute. Pendergast didn’t love her, he was just… waiting. For her. She turned on her heel and ran, vaguely aware that Elfo and Luci were following her, trying to call out to her. She’d been so _stupid_.

She knew. She knew he didn’t love her, she knew he hadn’t been dreaming about her that night. It had just been… _nice_ to think that someone cared about her like that. Luci and Elfo were faster than she gave them credit for, they were right behind her when she ran into her room.   
“I don’t want to talk right now!” Bean hissed at them. “I just want to be alone!”

“What’s wrong, Bean?” Elfo asked. “You’re the one who said you didn’t care about Pendergast.”   
She felt like she’d eaten a bucket of sand. “I just… you wouldn’t get it. She’s down there with him, and-and… she’s _pretty_ and _chaste_ and all those other things Mortimer said that I’m not.” She ran her tongue over her front teeth. She’d been so stupid.

“Bean, no! You’re beautiful and you smell nice and you’re really good and—” Elfo was cut off by two things. The first was Bean giving a hiccupping sob. The second was Luci throwing a pillow at him.   
“Not now, Elfo!” Luci huffed, before looking at Bean. “So, you’re upset that Pendergast talked to another human woman. I didn’t think you had that kind of shittiness in you.”

“It’s not that!”   
“Oh, I’m sorry, that he talked to another _attractive_ human woman. My mistake.”   
“Look at me!” Bean shot back. “I’m not the _perfect princess_, I’m not the kind of person that men like Pendergast fall in love with!”   
“Oh my _God_, how are you so stupid?” Luci groaned. “You’re exactly his type. Dumb as a fucking rock.”   
Bean threw a pillow at him. “Not _now_.”

“Right, sorry, you’re having your pity party.” Luci said. “This is about your own poor self-esteem rather than jealousy.”   
“It’s kind of about jealousy.” Bean said mulishly, wiping at her eyes.   
“But you’re so pretty, and nice—” Elfo tried again.

“You’re not going to listen to anyone but Pendergast about this, are you?” Luci groaned as Bean sat on the bed and pulled her knees to her chest.   
“Why would he want to talk to me? His _real_ girlfriend’s here.”   
“Okay. You have your pity party. Elfo, now you can talk. Keep her entertained while I’m gone.”

This was when Luci went to go lead Pendergast into the closet. He then returned to Bean’s room, and said, “Tired of talking to Elfo yet?”   
Bean was still on the bed with her knees pulled up to her chest. “Mm…”   
“Fair enough. You’re still having your pity party, right? I found a _lot_ of booze.”

“Booze sounds good right now.” Bean finally got off of the bed, and followed Luci down to the same cupboard. Pendergast had stopped banging on the door, and seemed instead to be conserving his strength, which was great for Luci.   
“Where’s the booze?” Bean asked him. Luci pointed to the door. “Just open it.”

She did, and he pushed her inside and locked the door.   
“Princess, are you alright?” Pendergast asked, catching her.   
“Not funny, Luci!” Bean yelled. “Let us out!”   
“Ha! I just got you both in, idiots! I’ll let you out once you talk through your problems, if you can.” Luci cackled, before leaving. He needed to go ruin someone else’s life to balance out how nice he was being.

“It’s a strong door.” Pendergast sighed, before sitting down on the ground again. Bean joined him. “So… Mortimer’s sister, huh?”   
Pendergast snorted. “It was… an enlightening conversation.”   
Bean nodded, and Pendergast noticed in the dim light that there were tear tracks on her face. He wiped a forming tear away. “Prin… _Bean_, are you alright? Who did this?”   
“Why does it matter?” Bean asked.

Pendergast pulled her into an awkward hug, and ran a hand over her hair. “Why _wouldn’t_ it?”   
Bean nestled into the hug. “I… you know how Emily has all those perfect things about her? I’m none of those things.”   
“So? Why would you need to be?”   
Bean scoffed. “I… maybe I’m scared to get married partially because I’m scared that no man wants me. As like, a _woman_. And it’d just be a nightmare for everyone, you know?”

“I don’t.” Pendergast replied, shifting so that she was between his legs. “Sure, you may not have the attributes she does, but she is by no means the only woman in the world with those. It’s… what’s expected.”   
“I thought you _liked_ what was expected.” Bean rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.   
Pendergast snorted. “Where did you get that idea? But no, you’re… brave. You’ll immediately go to help someone, no matter the consequences. And you have a taste for adventure that I wish my knights would get. You’re invested in helping people, even if you don’t do it that often because of other… commitments. And deep down? You’re… I don’t know how to describe it.”

“Try.” Bean’s mouth felt dry.   
He squinted at her. “You’re… the best word I can use is golden. You’re kind to others, but not yourself. You never fail to make me smile—_me_. You’re also a massive dork, but… it’s cute. You’re cute.”   
“You’re not so bad yourself.” Bean wiped at her eyes. “Thanks, Pen.”   
“It’s nothing but the truth.” He shrugged. “Why were you so worried about Emily, anyway?”   
“Uh… the mission!” Bean lied quickly. “Yes. The mission.”

Pendergast nodded. “That makes sense. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do anything to endanger the mission. Besides, I doubt Emily can handle herself the way you can.”   
Bean huffed. “Because she’s so _delicate_?” Usually, she was proud of the fact that she wasn’t a delicate flower, but now she just felt… boorish.   
Pendergast did something unexpected. He laced his fingers with hers. “…no. In some ways, she’s just as strong as you. I don’t think she has the kind of focus that you do, though. I think she’d be very distracted looking out for her brother, and I can’t get along with her the way I do with you. You’re easy to talk to.”

“Dork.” She flexed her fingers, enjoying the feeling of his larger, more calloused hands against hers.   
“Your dork, princess.”   
“Mm… you always make me feel better.”   
“I try my best to do so.” His hand tightened around hers, before he sighed. “Thank you for being here, princess.”

“Huh? We both got trapped here.”   
He laid his head on her shoulder. “I… don’t like being in small, dark spaces alone. You being here helps me focus on something else.”   
“And you’re not alone.” Bean pointing out, twisting to poke him in the face. He reverted back to his previous position.

“And I’m not alone.” Pendergast agreed, trying to focus on anything but her face. Friends don’t kiss friends. Friends don’t focus on how soft other friends are in the former’s lap, or how warm they are.   
“Why does it freak you out?”   
“Oh, my older brother pushed me down a well when I was seven.” Pendergast said nonchalantly.

“_What_?” Bean said.   
Pendergast shrugged. “It’s kind of self-explanatory. I was down there for a while before I managed to get out on my own.”   
“Jesus Christ, Pen.” Bean said, horrified. “How have you never mentioned that before?”   
Pendergast shrugged. “I have never needed to before. I avoid small dark spaces, and if I can’t, I avoid being alone.”

Bean firmly shifted her weight off of her legs onto him. “And you were wiping away my tears. Idiot.”   
“You don’t usually cry. What was I supposed to do?” Pendergast asked softly. “I can’t just let whoever hurt you get away with it.”   
Bean laughed. “And what if I hurt my own feelings?”   
“Hmm… that is a hard problem.” Pendergast said. “I can’t fight you for your own honor. I suppose I’ll just have to make sure that you never think that way about yourself again.”

“And how are you going to do that?”   
“Give me some time to work it out.” Pendergast said. “But, Bean… you know I l—” His love confession was cut off by Luci throwing open the door. “Hey idiots. We have a problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Emily means by she's already taken is that she's gay. She's dating Miri. She's about as interested in Pendergast as he is in her, given his one-track sexuality I've given him. 
> 
> No, Mortimer does not know. Emily's not exactly eager to spread this around because she's pretty private, _but_ at least she won't get arrested. The view at the time was, 'women can't really have sex, there's nothing going in any holes there's nothing to arrest them for'. Which sucked, but still better results than male homosexuality at the time.


	12. Everything suddenly gets VERY INTENSE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two stories Luci mentions off-handedly while freaking out are 1) 'The Girl Without Hands', which is a deeply weird fairytale, and 'The Devil with the Three Golden Hairs', which was made into a Jim Henson's the Storyteller episode. I'll explain that second one in more detail later, but the first one is basically: 
> 
> The devil popped up next to a poor man and was like, "hey if you give me the thing behind your house, I'll pay you" and the man was like, "that can only be my apple tree okay" but PLOT TWIST it was his DAUGHTER. The devil paid up, but the man was like, ":/" so the devil threatened to kill him. The man told his daughter, who washed herself, and the devil couldn't take her away. He told the man not to let her wash, so the man acquiesced. The devil came back, but she'd cried so hard she'd washed her hands clean. Rather than take her by the hand (what a polite devil) the devil's recommendation was to cut off her hands. 
> 
> Miraculously, that did not make her stop crying, so the devil just kind of gave up, and she wandered around with her arms bund to her back. She eventaully married the king through bullshittery, and because of the Devil messing with correspondence (as you do when you just can't get over someone, I _guess_) she was forced to wander around with her baby named Sorrow. She found a safehouse and raised the bay there, and when her husband finally showed up, they went home. Also her hands grew back at some point during the seven years that it took for her husband to show up. As you do.

Luci had gone to the village. There was only so much tormenting of Elfo he could do before it got kind of sad, so he had to spread it out a bit. He tripped an old lady, that was fun. He scattered nails on a street. He hid in a flower vase, and got ready to jump out when he heard a child crying. Unfortunately, he jumped out in front of the child. “Boo!”

The child stopped crying, which Luci wanted. The child did not start screaming, which is what Luci had been aiming for. Instead, they smiled and laughed. “Kitty!”  
“How dare you, I am a demon.” Luci huffed at them. “Where is your adult?”  
The child picked him up and cuddled him. Luci didn’t have the heart to struggle out of their grasp. The child then toddled towards the inn on unsteady, chubby legs.

“Whoa, buy me dinner first.” Luci said, before he heard fiddle music. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck. It couldn’t be… The child gasped, and seemed to hold their breath. “Shh…”  
“Aaron, there you are!” The innkeeper said, appearing from a side door. The fiddle music stopped abruptly. “Let go of that stray cat now.”  
“Well, fuck you too.” Luci said.

The innkeeper looked taken aback for a minute, but still succeeded in extricating the child and vanishing inside. Luci could hear the child give a few muffled cries, and the innkeeper trying to soothe them.

He scrambled up to the window, and poked his head in. The thing was watching him. “Hello, demon.”  
Luci squinted at him. “Do I know you? You seem familiar.”  
“I am the devil’s sooty brother, and your king as well.”  
“Oh my god, you’re the janitor!” Luci pointed an accusing finger at him before slipping inside the room. “How’ve you been, buddy?”

“Better now that I’ve left Hell.” The devil’s sooty brother growled. “Even better once I get my due.”  
“Oh, yes. Your due. What’s your due?”  
“The devil will clean me up and make my handsome. And then I will take my due.”  
“You’re still not clarifying what that is, buddy.”

The devil’s sooty brother kept those unsettlingly human eyes on Luci. “I’ve heard that Dreamland has an unmarried princess.”  
“Oh my God. Not you too.” Luci groaned. “Look, buddy, she’s already got a boyfriend. You’re not her type. She prefers human looking dudes.”  
“I will be cleaned up soon.” The devil’s sooty brother settled himself on the bed, releasing a cloud of dust.

“Uh… okay. You see, she’s not your type either.” Luci pointed out. “She likes to drink, and make out with a guy who is pointedly _not you_, and go on adventures, and have a life.”  
“I will train that out of her.”  
“Train?” Luci said.  
The devil’s sooty brother inclined his head. “Do not worry. I will not use the belt. I will only use my hand.”

“Huh.” Luci said. “Um… out of curiosity, do you know what the princess looks like?” Maybe he could try to pawn off poor Mop Girl on this guy.  
“Of course. I have seen her graven image on a coin.” Sure enough, the devil’s sooty brother handed Luci a copper coin with Bean on it. “I’ve heard that she has hair white as snow, and eyes as blue as the sea.”  
“Wow, look at you, janitor. A poet.” Luci snarked. “She’s not interested.”

The devil’s sooty brother shrugged. “Is she betrothed?”  
“Uh, yeah?” Luci lied. “To Sir Pendergast, the biggest, baddest knight in the kingdom. Captain of the Knights of the Zog Table. They’re madly in love.” To be fair, most of it wasn’t a lie, just the part where they were betrothed.  
“I am not afraid of knights. Did you ever find out, when I was cleaning under those kettles, I peeked inside? And every time, there was one of my old commanding officers. And I added more wood, every time. I don’t care for soldiers.”

“Didn’t you used to be one?”  
“That’s why I don’t care for them.” The devil’s sooty brother shrugged. “I will handle this… Sir Pendergast, and then I will take what I am owed.”  
“What do you have to do with Bean though? Why not go get another princess—I hear Marianne of Kirschen’s husband died?”

The devil’s sooty brother chuckled, releasing another cloud of dust. “He did? I always knew it would go poorly for Damien. We were in the army together, though I was discharged before him. I knew he wouldn’t take it well if it happened to him. I’m not out for revenge, little demon. I just want a nice, quiet wife and never to have to look over my shoulder again. A sedentary life.”

“Okay, but again, that won’t work with Bean. Why not get another princess?”  
The devil’s sooty brother shrugged and replied, “I was returned to this earthly plane near here. Clearly this is where your lord and master wanted me to be. That is the princess that the devil wants me to have, and I am not one to defy him after he has given me so much. I can take her in hand, little demon. A woman is nothing after what I’ve seen in hell.”

Luci laughed. “You’ve never met Bean, asshole.”  
“Can she bleed? Can she scream? She is a woman. I will not allow her to stand in the way of my happiness.”  
“Hmm. How do you plan to make her fall in love with you? Because you’re not exactly… attractive.” Luci gestured vaguely.  
The devil’s sooty brother pulled out his knapsack filled with gold. “What kind of king would refuse this?”  
“You’re not bitter, huh?” Luci muttered.

“Besides, I believe that the devil has already paved the way for me.” The devil’s sooty brother said, tucking away the knapsack again. “She will marry me. And I doubt that you can stop that—you’re what, a first-level demon? There’s no way you can stop the plan of the actual devil.” With that, he picked up his fiddle and began playing. Luci scurried out the window, and ran right back to the castle and the closet.

“Hey idiots, we have a problem!” Luci nearly shouted. And of course, the oblivious idiots were canoodling instead of worrying. Of course.  
“Where’s the fire?” Pendergast asked.  
“Okay, you know what happened in Kirschen? This is like that, _but much worse_.” Luci scurried down the hall, then waited impatiently for them to follow.

“Oh shit, I need to write Marianne back.” Bean bit her lip.  
“Marianne doesn’t matter! Marianne already killed a man!” Luci waved his arms in the air. “We need to worry about _you_—I need something to write on. This will take a while to explain.”  
Elfo walked past them. “Oh, Bean and Pendergast are still together.”  
Luci grabbed his shoulders. “Oh, you beautiful mess. I _wish_ you were the biggest stone in the road of their love.”

“Well, who said anything about love?” Bean asked.  
“Okay, if you’re going to be like that, plan A, which was to convince you to elope before you had to marry _the janitor_, clearly won’t work!” Luci grabbed his head. “It is _so hard_ being the smart one.” He eventually led them to the crystal ball room, where he hopped up there, pacing.

“You have given us no information, cat.” Pendergast crossed his arms.  
Luci covered his eyes. “Oh my God… Okay, let’s start with that. I’m a demon! My entire existence is on the line, because the devil himself—my boss’s boss’s boss’s boss’s boss—is invested in Bean’s marriage prospects! I’m sticking my neck out _so_ hard for you losers!”  
“Wait, shouldn’t you have to listen to him?” Elfo asked.

“That is a good question. As you know, I am very anti-authority, it’s part of why Bean and I are such good friends. And also, I was summoned with a purpose that actually, _doesn’t_ involve Bean getting married.”  
“Yeah, you kind of ruined my wedding.” Bean pointed out.  
“You ruined your wedding, I just told you where the communion wine was.” Luci replied.

“Who summoned you, demon?” Pendergast asked.  
Luci placed his hands in front of him. “Oh, and isn’t that a fun story! So, Bean, your mom? She’s actually the sister of the Emperor of Maru! And she’s not dead! This whole thing was a contrived thing so you’d bring her back to life!”  
There was a lightning bolt next to him. Elfo screamed in surprise.

“And now Becky and Cloyd—Dagmar’s siblings— are trying to kill me for spilling their secrets!” Luci tried to pretend he still had control of the situation as he started taking evasive maneuvers.  
“Wait, that doesn’t make any sense. I’ve missed my mom _so much_—why would I have to be manipulated into bringing her back?” Bean asked. “Why wouldn’t my _family_ just tell me about this?”

Luci drummed his fingers on the crystal ball, before saying, “Can you show her what Cloyd and Becky are aiming for?”  
‘CLOYD AND BECKY ARE ‘AIMING FOR’ A LOT OF THINGS. BE SPECIFIC.’  
“Show her what they need _her_ for.”

The ball projected an almost storyboard version of Bean talking to Elfo, who then gave her a drop of his blood, and a pendant. Storyboard-Bean put the pendant with blood in it around the neck of the statue in the church, who turned back into real Dagmar. Story-board Dagmar more or less pulled out a crown from behind her back. Storyboard-Bean knelt, and then…

The image abruptly changed from the storyboard format to the oceans rising, and covering Dreamland, and Cremorrah, and everywhere that would oppose the might of Maru. A terrifying version of Bean, with dark eyes—with something swimming behind them?—floating like she was in water, raised her hand, and a kraken rose from the depths. She shouted something, with seawater flowing out of her mouth, and storms crashed upon the land.

“Do you understand?!” Luci suddenly yelled, breaking away everyone’s attention. Pendergast had more or less grabbed Bean and put himself halfway between her and the images.  
“This is about more than who gets to _fuck_ her, you complete idiots!” Luci pointed at Pendergast and Elfo here. “She’s got something relating to an Old God in her, and unless you chucklefucks have a better idea, we need to get it out so we actually have something to fight the Devil with _or we all die_.”

“Wait, how does this translate into our deaths?” Elfo asked.  
“Let’s see. If we don’t find a way to _fix this_, Bean marries a man who just had a very long conversation with me about how he’s not _that_ bad, he won’t use a belt. I get vaporized over and over for eternity for daring to go against the highest point of power I defer to. Pendergast is basically _everything_ this fucker hates, not least because this guy who looks like he’s not human was dishonorably discharged, hates the military, _and actively has plans to abuse the love of Pendergast’s life_. Pendergast probably has an unfortunate ‘accident’ just so she can get isolated even more. Side note: he’s totally going to kill your dad and Derek so he gets to be king. Did I mention that this guy made a deal with the devil and it’s time for him to collect, and he very much views Bean, an unrelated party, as his ‘due’.”

“Yeah, but what about me?” Elfo asked. Everyone in the room glared at him.  
‘ELFO WOULD PROBABLY GET DROP-KICKED OUT THE WINDOW OF THE PRINCESS’ TOWER JUST FOR BEING ANNOYING TO HANS’. The crystal ball said.  
“Exactly. And you get drop-kicked. _Pendergast’s_ not going to drop kick you out a window, is he?” Luci said, leaning down to stare at Elfo.  
“No?” Elfo glanced back at Pendergast, who shrugged.

“Wait, it looks like ‘unlocking the power’ of an Old God or whatever—and this _really_ feels like an elaborate prank—means I turn into… that. That thing we saw.” Bean gestured to the crystal. “That sounds like a nightmare, and I don’t want that either!”  
“Again, Plan A was you and Pendergast elope.” Luci pointed out. “Hans—Jesus, I did _not_ know he had a people name—can’t marry you if you’re already married.”

“Except for the fact that her father could easily dissolve the marriage or kill me, and then we’re back at square one.” Pendergast said.  
“Yeah, why can’t we kill this guy the way Marianne did?” Bean added.  
Luci raised an eyebrow. “Wow, okay. You’re comfortable with having sex with a man old enough to be your father who spent seven years not bathing, not shaving, _not wiping his eyes_ to get close enough to poison him? Fun fact, he straight up thought the one Marianne killed was an idiot who would always get himself into trouble.”

“I mean I wouldn’t have sex with him!” Bean said, turning red.  
“Clearly, this man has no honor, and it would be a simple matter for me to dispatch—” Pendergast began.  
“Okay, idiot. I’m going to stop you there. What if he comes back?”  
“What?” Pendergast asked, caught entirely off-guard.

Luci shrugged. “Well, he’s obviously going to Hell. If he hasn’t had his soul taken already, he’s an investment. Why wouldn’t he come back? Again and again and again?”  
Pendergast didn’t have a good answer for that.  
“You got a plan to kill him?” Luci asked Elfo.

Elfo considered this. “Well… there’s no guarantee that he’s actually going to—”  
“I’m going to stop you there.” Luci said. “_Clearly_ I am the mastermind of this. Oh, wow, this is a lot of pressure. I’m considering just selling you all out now.”

Odval chose this moment to walk in. “…what are you all doing here?”  
“We’ve reserved the conference room?” Luci scoffed. “What are you doing here?”  
“…only one of you actually has a job, and it most certainly doesn’t involve this room?” Odval looked at Pendergast.  
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, but this is a life-threatening situation. Like, I told her about Maru bad.” Luci interrupted.

Odval stiffened. “Oh.”  
“You _knew_ I’d turn into a crazy sea-monster-thing?!” Bean demanded.  
“I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t.” Odval said drily. “Bentwood is entirely in land, you know.”  
“This is about the fate of the world, shoo!” Luci said.  
Odval left.

“Okay, if that didn’t just cement this as the truth, I don’t know what will.” Pendergast remarked drily.  
Luci paced around the crystal ball. “Okay, okay… so… we’ve got Pendergast, which means we have the guards. They will be excellent fodder. We’ve got Cloyd and Becky, who have a kingdom at their disposal, even if they ran it into the ground. We’ve got massive power reserves for Bean to tap into, but she won’t just because she’ll turn into a creature of nightmares. And we’ve got my knowledge. Oh, we’re _fucked_. Is it too late for me to abandon you nerds?”

“What about that guy we pushed into the volcano? He’s got to have colleagues.” Bean said.  
“That is about as desperate a measure as dousing you in holy water so Hans can’t touch you. And admittedly, that would probably work. There was this chick who the devil wanted to take away… long story short, he couldn’t because she kept washing her face, then she kept crying and shit, even after he took away her hands…”

Everyone stared at him.  
“She got better!” Luci protested. “I mean, she named her child ‘Sorrow’, so was she ever really _okay_ in the first place, but she got to marry a king. She did well for herself.”  
“I don’t want to marry a king or lose my hands!” Bean hissed through gritted teeth.  
Luci sighed. “We need to wait and see what Hans does.”

“How will that help anything?! We need to go on the defensive!” Pendergast huffed.  
Luci made a ‘mouth talking’ hand motion at him. “Against _what_, dumbass? I need to see how Hans is going to approach this. Zog’s been talking about fiddle-playing, in which case, we need to take a trip to the… another long story. If Hans just walks up with a shit-ton of gold, which is _very_ much his plan B, we need to go get the King of Aarne.”

“And what will he do?” Elfo snorted.  
“I’m not marrying a king…” Bean muttered.  
“He’s a luck child, he’ll figure something out!” Luci waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, and Bean? If you see any… odd… blond men staring at you, walk very quickly in the other direction.”

“So we’re just supposed to sit here and do _nothing_?” Pendergast demanded.  
“Yeah, pretending we don’t know while we gather a way to defeat him?” Luci shrugged. “Besides, don’t you have a criminal to catch _tomorrow_? It’s Thursday. The Miller wedding is Friday, which means…”  
Pendergast sighed. “Right. Prin—Bean, I completely understand if you don’t want to go, with all this…”  
“No, I want to go.” Bean said quickly. “It’ll be fun.”

Luci sighed deeply. “Just fucking confess your love to each other already so we can _move on_ from ‘will they won’t they’ to the horrifying situation. We _know_ you will.”  
“Well, they might not.” Elfo said, as Bean and Pendergast both reddened.  
“No. They will.” Luci said. “I don’t need the crystal ball to tell me that.”

“We’re just friends.” Bean hissed at him. “That’s it.”  
“Then go be _just friends_ in the closet I found you in.”  
“You put us there!” Bean pointed out.  
“So?” Luci made a face. “I didn’t force you guys to canoodle and make eyes at each other!”

“Technically, I can’t _make eyes_ at anyone.” Pendergast deadpanned.  
“Oh, good, he’s making jokes. We broke Pendergast with this, he’s a fucking comedian now.” Elfo huffed.  
Luci quietly shuffled the three of them out of the room while Bean and Elfo started arguing, before leaning up against the crystal ball. “God, I threw my lot in with these fuckers… is it too late to change my mind?”

‘NO.’  
“Is there a snowball’s chance in Hell that we’ll all escape with our lives if I don’t abandon them?”  
‘READ A BOOK SOMETIME. YOU’RE BOUND BY FAIRY TALE LAWS—SHE JUST CAN’T BECOME AN UNFAITHFUL WIFE OR IT’LL SNAP BACK ON HER.’  
“So what do you suggest?”

‘I SHOULDN’T GIVE YOU SPOILERS.’  
“Then how am I supposed to fix this?”  
‘YOU’RE NOT. PENDERGAST GRIFFITHS IS.”  
“Oh, good. Knight in shining armor. What, he’s so pure of heart that he’ll defeat the evil with true love’s kiss or whatever?”

‘I NEVER SAID THAT. BUT THINK ABOUT HIS SWEET TOOTH FOR A MINUTE.’  
“…oh, no. He’s not, is he? He’s human.”  
‘NOT ENTIRELY.’  
“They’re not going to help us.”

‘NO. BUT IF HE SEEKS HER OUT, A FAMILY MEMBER OF HIS WILL HELP. AFTER ALL, YOU NEED TO PLAY INTO THE TROPES. DOESN’T LOVE ALWAYS WIN?’  
“My life’s on the line, and you want me to play matchmaker and _hope_ that it all works out? Just trust that this help will come out of nowhere?!”

‘IT’S NOT YOUR STORY.’  
Luci sighed. “Yeah. But I’m still going to get fucked over if this goes south.”  
‘IT’S NOT TOO LATE TO BACK OUT, BUT YOU KNOW THEY CAN’T DO THIS WITHOUT YOU.’  
Luci closed his eyes for a second, before saying, “No. I can’t leave these idiots to fend for themselves. Bastard would be mad at me.”  
‘RIGHT, BECAUSE THIS IS TOTALLY ABOUT CARROTS THE HORSE AND NOT YOUR BIPEDAL FRIENDS.’

“…if we get out of here alive, do they name a kid after me?”  
‘IF ALL GOES ACCORDING TO PLAN? BULLSHIT MIDDLE NAME, FIRST SON.’  
“I can live with that.” Luci said.  
‘AND YOU GET TO SPOIL THEIR KIDS. I KNOW YOU HAVE A SOFT SPOT FOR THEM.’  
“Wow, stop spreading lies about me.” Luci scoffed. “Kids’ll… pull my tail, and pinch my ears…”  
‘SECOND DAUGHTER’S FIRST WORD IS ‘LUCI’ OR A CLOSE APPROXIMATION. SHE DOESN’T REALLY HAVE TEETH. PENDERGAST SULKS FOR THE REST OF THE DAY.’  
Luci laughed. “Yeah, I can definitely live with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there is a Grimm story named 'The Devil's Sooty Brother'. You can look it up. 
> 
> Or... I can give you a quick rundown here. 
> 
> In the story, there's a discharged soldier who wanders into the woods and meets the devil, a normal looking blond man in a green suit (with hooves). He agrees to work for the devil for seven years, in which time he will not clean himself in any way, not even wiping his eyes. His job is to maintain three large kettles-- more specifically, the fire under them. He peeks in all three kettles, and sees his commanding officers each time, causing him to add more wood. 
> 
> The seven yeas are eventually up, and the Devil comes by. "Well Hans, what have you done?" (This is a verbatim quote, and also why his name is Hans.) The Devil explains that if he hadn't added more wood after he peeked in the kettles that he wasn't supposed to, his soul would have been forfeit. But he did, so it's fine. Then he has Hans take all the soot he's scraped up over the years and put it in his pack. Also, he is to introduce himself as 'the devil's sooty brother and my king as well'. 
> 
> Hans leaves Hell, and plans to dump the soot as soon as possible, but it turns out to be gold. He talks an innkeeper into letting him stay because of it but the innkeeper steals it. Hans goes back to the Devil to whine, and the Devil fixes him up and makes him look human. Hans then threatens the innkeeper that unless he gets his money back, the Devil will take the innkeeper and make him look just like Hans did. Hans gets his money back (and more) and lives comfortably for a while. 
> 
> Then there's the part that feels tacked on out of nowhere but it's the most important part for us. The Devil taught Hans how to fiddle, so Hans is _great_ at it. He fiddles so well that a king offers him his daughter's hand in marriage. Admittedly, there is an older daughter who is first offered Hans and refuses, so Hans marries the youngest daughter. And when the King dies, he inherits half the kingdom.


	13. Wow I hope her catching that bouquet means she'll get to marry who she wants

Bean felt… jittery waking up the next day. Like there was electricity in the air. Luci said not to worry, but he was also so clearly worried about the situation… and then there was the wedding. And they had to pretend everything was fine.

And also she had to wear a dress. She picked one out at random—not a fuller skirt like she was used to, but a kirtle and chemise combination. The kirtle was blue, trailing slightly behind her with embroidery all over the linen fabric. (She may have had to swipe one of Oona’s chemises because she’d outgrown hers, but still). It felt like a good dress for a wedding. The flower was almost wilted, but she tucked it behind her ear anyway, before heading down to the courtyard.

All the knights were in dress uniform, but her eyes stayed fixed on Pendergast. His blue coat was so dark it was almost black, with a red sash around his waist.   
“Dress uniform today?” She asked, moving to stand by his side.   
He looked over at her, and shrugged. “It’s… some of the only appropriate formalwear some have, and if one is wearing it, the rest of us should too.”

She took his arm, smiling at him. “Why are you being so defensive? It looks good. You should wear it more often.”   
“Technically, I’m only supposed to wear it for state functions.” Pendergast muttered, though he was blushing. “You look good too.”   
She laughed. “I’m not going to wear a dress more often. No one would take me seriously.”   
He rolled his eye. “Of course that’s your problem with it.”

She leaned against his shoulder. “Don’t be a jerk, Pen.”   
“Of course, princess.” He said, though he was smiling. “I’m just going to go back to watching everyone else try to get their horses ready without ruining their dress uniforms.”   
“You could help!” Sir Edgar huffed at him.   
Pendergast shrugged. “I could. Hey, Mortimer, how’s your sister?”

Mortimer suddenly found his tack very interesting.   
“You’re awful.” Bean snickered. “I didn’t know you had such a mean streak.”   
“Ah, I think you might be rubbing off on me.” Pendergast admitted. “Besides, it’s not my fault if they decided to get ready _before_ getting their horses ready. Carrots and I have been ready to go for a while.”   
“Once again, you could help!” Edgar huffed.

“I could also remind you that I’m your commanding officer.” Pendergast replied, though he was grinning. “And that I’m not stupid, and you’re trying to take advantage of my good mood to fix your own mistakes.”   
“You’d help Turbish and Mertz.” Edgar muttered.   
“Turbish and Mertz kind of _need_ help.” Mortimer reminded him.

“Where are they, anyway?” Bean looked around the courtyard. Okay, maybe her math was kind of off, and it was just Pendergast, Edgar, and Mortimer, but still.   
“Picking up their dates.” Pendergast shrugged. “Probably paying them in advance…”   
Edgar suddenly realized that there was another element he was missing, and swung up onto his horse.   
“No, wait!” Mortimer yelled.   
Too late. The saddle was only half-on, and Edgar _leaned _rather perilously.

Bean buried her face in Pendergast’s shoulder to hide her laughter. She could feel his shoulders shake, and knew he was trying to fight laughter as well. Mortimer sighed, and finished his own saddle, before mounting up and riding off. They were alone, besides Carrots.   
“You know… I’ve told you before, but no matter what happens, I’ll protect you.” Pendergast said, finally turning back to her.   
“I can protect myself.” Bean replied, forcing a smile. “But… thank you.”

“Scared?”   
“Pfft. No.” Bean said too quickly.   
“It’s okay if you are.” Pendergast said. “I would be. I… am. Scared, I mean.”   
“I’m trying not to think about it, ‘cause I feel like I won’t be able to drink it away.” Bean admitted. “I can’t… _run_ like I did with Guysbert, because there’s still everyone here that’s in danger. Oh my God, am I _responsible_ now? Gross.”

Pendergast cracked a grin. “Maybe I’m rubbing off on you too?”   
Bean made a face. “Take it back.”   
Pendergast laughed. “You know it doesn’t work like that. Besides, you care about other people already, I know you do. You’re just putting them ahead of your own needs, but… if it comes down to it, run.”   
“Will you chase me?”   
“To the ends of the earth.” Pendergast promised. “But not for Merkimer, and not for… this situation.”   
Bean’s breath caught in her throat. “Then why—”

Pendergast cleared his throat. “Look at the time, we should probably get going.” In the town square, the clock opened up and rang out twice.   
“Good timing.” Bean said.   
He picked her up by her waist, and helped her onto the horse, before swinging up behind her.   
“Do they teach you how to help women mount and dismount horses when you’re a knight?” Bean teased.

“Oh yes, I aced that class.” Pendergast said, half-sarcastically. “Why? Is there something wrong with my technique? Did I hurt you?”   
“No. Your grip was… very firm, but not too tight.” Bean replied, almost like she was thinking about it.   
“Oh, I’m glad, princess. I wouldn’t want to drop you.”   
“If you did, I’d kick your ass.”   
“_If_ I did, you’d have my express permission to do so.”

She rolled her eyes, fully aware that their position on the horse meant he couldn’t see. “You like carrying me around, don’t you?”   
“It’s faster sometimes.” Pendergast admitted. “I have longer legs, and you don’t weigh that much.”   
“Gee, _thanks_. Jerk.”   
“What did I say?” Pendergast asked. “I said you _don’t_ weigh that much. It’s easy for me to pick you up.”

“It’s not going to be easy if I kick you in the face next time.” Bean huffed.   
“What do you want me to say? I just like picking you up? I like feeling you in my arms?”   
“I want you to say you l—” Bean was cut off by Charles Miller yelling, “Oh, there you are!”

They were outside the field the wedding was being held in. Pendergast dismounted, helped Bean down, and then hitched Carrots to the hitching post.   
Charles Miller held out his arms. “Aren’t I lucky? This time might be the one.”   
“Amazing that you still believe in love.” Pendergast deadpanned.   
“Ha—I have to, otherwise I’ll just…” Miller clenched his fists by his side. “Women are… oh, right, hello, princess.”

“Uh… hi.” Bean said.   
Pendergast looped an arm around her protectively.   
“Well, I think other wedding guests are calling me.” Miller said, though Bean and Pendergast didn’t hear anything. “I hope you both enjoy the festivities.”   
With that, he disappeared again.   
Bean shuddered. “He _so_ murdered them.”

“Oh, definitely.” Pendergast agreed.   
“Is there time to warn the bride?” Bean craned her neck around him, glancing around.

Music started up. “I suppose not.” Pendergast sighed. “We’ll have to publically give her our support and hope it’s enough.”   
Bean made a face as they found their seats. “We should be able to do more.”   
“I can’t do more without evidence.” Pendergast shrugged.

“So we need to find evidence, I can do that.”   
He placed a hand over hers. “I doubt there’s anything incriminating at a wedding.”   
“So what’s your plan?” Bean asked.   
“…remember when you entered that drinking competition?”   
“And won?” Bean scoffed. “Yeah.”

Pendergast watched Miller take his place at the head of the makeshift aisle. “Think you can outdrink him?”   
“Easily. Why?”   
“Have you ever heard the phrase, ‘in vino veritas’? Maybe he’ll spill something when he’s drunk. Enough for me to order an investigation, and then we might find bones…”

“You’re going to trust the _knights_ to help you find evidence?” Bean asked, scandalized. “Those knights?” She gestured vaguely, and Pendergast looked over his shoulder. Turbish had indeed brought a prostitute, and Mertz had brought his mother. Edgar was openly trying to hit on Mortimer’s sister, who was pointedly ignoring him while his date glared at him, along with Mortimer. Most of their dress uniforms were already in disarray, Mortimer’s was the best next to Pendergast himself.

“That’s better than I was expecting.” Pendergast admitted.   
“Mortimer brought his sister.” Bean whispered.   
“I know. I thought he was going to bring a date too, but apparently not.” Pendergast whispered back.   
“Are you the only one with a real date?”   
“Define ‘real date’, princess. You’re here to help me catch a murderer. Besides, a woman unrelated to Edgar that he didn’t seem to pay is here.”

Edgar’s date promptly stormed off after slapping him. Emily was clearly trying to hide a laugh. The groomsmen joined Miller at the end of the aisle, each with the same hungry, wolfish look as the bride appeared at the other end of the aisle.   
Bean shuddered looking at them.   
“Are you cold?” Pendergast wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

She leaned into him. “Mm… worried. Those guys look so creepy.”   
The bride walked down the aisle, with perfect, poised steps, on her smiling father’s arm. Her blonde hair was pinned up in a neat chignon, and she had a very simple wreath of flowers in her hair. Her dress was a lighter blue than Bean’s, but not so light that it was white. Bean could see grass stains forming already. She was beautiful—and she looked like she was trying hard not to cry.

The ceremony was quiet, and understated. No jealous wives returned, no lovers broke in and tried to save the girl from her fate.   
“If we weren’t here to trap at least one murderer, it’d be kind of nice.” Pendergast muttered to Bean, his arm still around her, moving up and down occasionally to keep her warm.

“Yeah.” Bean agreed. “Probably the nicest wedding I’ve been to.”   
Pendergast snorted. “We’ve both been to a total of two weddings.”   
“Well… two and a half.” Bean shrugged.   
“I’m counting both Merkimer and Guysbert as separate halves.” Pendergast muttered. “Hey, she may be marrying a murderer, but at least the bride didn’t jump out a window this time.”

Bean gently hit him on the shoulder. “What window? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”   
Pendergast bit the inside of his cheek to stop from smiling. “Wouldn’t stop you, would it?”   
“Shhh, we’re not supposed to be smiling at this! Besides, I might not… run if I’m marrying a guy I chose to marry.” Bean whisper-yelled.   
Several people still turned their heads.

“Well, as long as it’s not one of those guys up there, I won’t stop you.” Pendergast half-joked quietly.   
Bean shot him a long look. “Who do you think it is?”   
“I don’t know if there’s anyone that’s captured your heart, princess. I hope… I hope he deserves you.” Pendergast said quietly, not just because an aunt of the bride kept glaring at them.   
“He does. I’m just not sure he loves me back.”   
“Then he’s an idiot.” Pendergast huffed, before focusing on the wedding.

At the altar, the bride looked somewhat green as Miller slid a ring onto her finger.   
“You may kiss the bride.” The priest said. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present, Mr and Mrs Miller!”   
Everyone clapped politely, before proceeding over to the nearby part of the field set aside for the reception.

The bride threw her bouquet high in the air without waiting for everyone to gather… and it would have conked Bean on the head if she hadn’t reached up and grabbed it at the last minute. There was some clapping, and a few stares.   
“Why is everyone looking at me?” She whispered to Pendergast.   
“The woman who catches the bouquet is supposed to be the next to get married.” He whispered back, his blush returning.

“Is it too late to make you hold it?”   
“Oh, definitely. Look on the bright side, maybe your stupid man isn’t that stupid after all.”   
She glanced at him. “What do you…”   
He cleared his throat. “Let’s go give our congratulations and a thinly veiled threat.”

They made their way over to the couple.   
“Oh, Pendergast, there you are.” Miller flashed white teeth—and Bean couldn’t tell if he was trying to smile or bare them. Weirdo.   
“Congratulations on the wedding.”   
“Aw, well, perhaps this is the one!” Miller slung an arm around his bride. “What do you think, Sarah? Are you going to run away?”   
“No, sir.” Sarah kept her eyes on the ground.

“There you have it… though what’s that worth, the promise of a woman?” Miller and his groomsmen all laughed far too loud.   
Pendergast crossed his arms, folding back into the gruff Captain of the Guard. “Sparkling wit, as always. We just wanted to say, if you—or your wife—ever find yourselves in a situation where it might be helpful to call the royal guard, please feel free to do so. We’ll be sure to lend a hand where we can—and we’ll be keeping an eye on the situation.”

“Have you found my old servant yet?” Miller asked.   
Sarah finally lifted her eyes from the ground, and immediately made eye contact with Bean, who made a face.   
Sarah covered her mouth to hide her smile.   
“Here, I think this belongs to you.” Bean said, tuning out Miller and trying to hand back the bouquet.

“Ah, no, you caught it.” Sarah replied.   
Bean shrugged. “I mean, she who smelt it dealt it, right?”   
Sarah’s shoulders shook. “_Stop_, this is a serious occasion!”   
“Okay, in all seriousness though, Pen wasn’t bullshitting just now.” Bean leaned in close. “Your husband’s super creepy. Come to us if you need help.”

“Oh, thank you, but that won’t be necessary.” Sarah whispered back.   
“You don’t think he’s creepy?”   
“I do, but I have a plan. Don’t worry about me, princess. I’m never going to be alone with him.” Sarah placed a hand on Bean’s arm. “But thank you. Both of you.”   
She was jerked away by Miller placing a hand on her shoulder. “Oh, Sarah, don’t bother the princess.”

“She’s not a bother.” Bean said.   
Miller gave a wicked smile. “I’m sure you’re just saying that. As I was saying to Sir Pendergast, you’re welcome to sit near us.”   
Bean glanced back at Pendergast, who shrugged.   
“I think that’s a wonderful idea, husband.” Sarah said, though she was making eye contact with Bean the whole time.

Miller squeezed her shoulder. “I am known to have a few every so often. So?”   
“Of course, we’d be honored.” Bean said, before she and Pendergast moved to the side so that other guests could give their congratulations.   
“What did she say?” Pendergast asked.   
“She said she has a plan.” Bean bit her lip. “Did you get anything from him?”

“Besides the general creepiness and the feeling that I need to rush home and take a shower?” Pendergast shrugged. “Not really.”   
“Guess we’re sitting near them then.” Bean sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a major anachronism by giving the knights dress uniforms, but I don't care. Dress uniforms look NICE. They're designed to look nice. Pen's is based very much off of the dress uniforms of Royal Military Academy Sandhurst. 
> 
> Also yes, Bean is wearing the wedding dress from tVoN. It's all connected.


	14. Pendergast is GREAT at feelings

They did, at the long table heaving with guests. Food was on the table, but Miller and friends wouldn’t eat it. “I’ll eat later.” Miller said with a sharp smile and a sharper laugh.   
“But you can drink, right?” Bean asked.   
Miller shrugged. “I prefer not to until… wedding night business has been conducted.”   
Sarah visibly repressed a shudder. “Husband, why don’t you tell our guests a story?”

“Well, only if I’ll get other ones in return.” Miller laughed. “Friedrich, why don’t you start us off?”   
The man next to Pendergast cleared his throat. “Once upon a time, there was a man who was discharged from the army. He had nothing but the clothes on his back, and anger in his heart. He wandered into the woods, and met a little man dressed in green with cloven hooves. It was the devil, and he told our soldier that he had to wander the world for seven years and never clip his nails, brush his hair, wash himself, or pray. If he died during the seven years, his soul would be the devil’s, but if he didn’t, he’d be safe. ‘What will I get?’ The soldier asked, before a bear burst into the clearing they were in. The soldier shot it with his crossbow, and the Devil said, ‘this shall be your cloak, and I shall give you my coat—reach into the pocket and there will always be money for you there.’ And the soldier agreed, and lived life well, always remembering to give money to the poor to pray for him.”

Bean and Pendergast exchanged a look as Friedrich continued.   
“By the fourth year, he looked entirely inhuman. The innkeeper forced him to stay in the stable, where he heard a poor man weeping through the wall. ‘Why do you weep?’ the soldier asked. ‘I have lost all my money, I cannot provide for my daughters and I cannot even pay the innkeeper.’ ‘I will pay him for you, and give you more besides, though be warned that I am not handsome.’ The poor man was grateful, even if taken aback by his appearance, and offered any of his daughters to the soldier for marriage. The soldier was pleased by this, and followed the poor man home. The first daughter ran away screaming, because women are fickle and vain. The second daughter scoffed and said she’d rather marry a shaved bear, but the third agreed. The soldier broke a ring in half, wrote her name in one half and kept it, and wrote his name in the other and gave it to her. ‘I will return for you in three years, or you will be freed.’ And she wept and dressed in mourning, because even then, she was a faithless woman.”

“Fun story.” Bean muttered to Pendergast, who nodded.  
“The soldier wandered for three more years, until he met the devil again, deeply annoyed. ‘Give me back my coat.’ Said the Devil. ‘No, first you must make me look human again.’ Said the soldier. Grumbling, the devil did so, making him look like a handsome soldier indeed. And the soldier went back to the poor man’s house in a splendid carriage. ‘I am here for a bride.’ He told the poor man. And both of the sisters ran up to their rooms, putting on splendid dresses, for both imagined that they would be chosen. Instead, the soldier sat down with the youngest sister, still dressed in black, and he gave her a glass of wine with his half of the ring slipped in. She drank it, and realized it was her future husband in front of her, finding the ring half. The poor man was overjoyed, and when the two sisters found out, they were overcome with rage. One drowned herself in the well, one hung herself from a tree. The devil appeared at the door and said, ‘Not a bad deal, two souls for one.’”

There was scattered applause. “Well… that was certainly a story.” Pendergast muttered to Bean.   
“The stuff about women was _super_ weird.” Bean muttered back.   
“Oh, definitely.” Pendergast agreed.

“Now, Sarah, do you happen to have a tale?” Miller grinned.   
Sarah took a dainty bite of her food, before swallowing and saying, “Well… I had a dream recently, but it doesn’t necessarily mean it makes for a good tale.”   
“Try.” Miller grinned.

“I dreamed that since you told me to visit you—do you remember?—you scattered a trail of ashes in the forest. I went to visit you, scattering peas and lentils, just for safety. And I found my way to a little house in the woods, where a bird called out to me twice, ‘Turn back, turn back, you young bride, for you are in a murderer’s house.’ But it was only a dream, my dear.”   
Miller was suddenly gulping wine like he was about to die. Bean and Pendergast sat forward.

Sarah continued. “I continued through the house, but it was silent and empty. Finally, I got to the basement, where there was an old woman scraping out intestines. And I asked her, ‘Can you tell me if my groom lives here?’ And she shook her head and said, ‘You poor child. It is only death that you’ll be marrying. When they have captured you, they’ll chop you up and force me to cook you so that they may eat you.’ And I begged her to help me, so she hid me behind a large barrel. Darling, don’t look so stressed, it was only a dream.”

The groomsmen and Miller were all looking pale at this point. “Yes… only a dream…” Miller muttered.   
Sarah pleasantly smiled, then adjusted her napkin in her lap. “And then, you and your friends burst in, carrying a maiden with you. Come to think of it, she looked a lot like Melissa of Bentwood, when your friend Friedrich married her last week? She begged you all to stop, but none of you did. I finally got up the nerve to peek out from behind the barrel, and I saw that you were feeding her three cups of what looked like wine. One red cup, one white cup, and one yellow cup, and her heart burst clean out of her chest. Oh, but it was only a dream.”

Bean pushed her cup of wine away from her. Pendergast put his hand on his sword, ready to move.   
“And then, she was chopped up into pieces, and her ring finger went flying into my lap, ring still attached. ‘Where’s that ring? I want it back, she took it from me...’ Friedrich whined. You all stumbled around drunkenly trying to find it. ‘Did you check behind that barrel?’ You asked. ‘Leave it until morning, you’re all drunk, and it’s not going to run away.’ The old woman said.” The groom and his friends exchanged looks.

Sarah then pulled the finger, ring still attached, out of her pocket. “Though I suppose it did, for here is the ring!”   
“Arrest those men!” Pendergast shouted, rousing the other knights.   
The wedding quickly became pandemonium—guests running hither and yon. Miller lunged across the table for Sarah, who danced away and ran. “You _bitch_! You ruined my life!”   
Bean moved to intercept Miller despite Pendergast yelling for her to stop in the background. “Why don’t you pick on someone else, you fucking creep?!”   
Miller grabbed her. “Oh, you’ll do even better. Oh, Pendergast?” He turned her around. “I’m walking out of here, or…” He pulled a knife out of his boot.

“Let her go.” Pendergast ground out.   
“What’s it going to be? Me, or her?”   
Bean knocked her head back into his nose, causing him to let her go. She turned around and kicked him in the dick for good measure. Miller crumpled.   
“Asshole.” Bean muttered, before someone ran up and grabbed her from behind.

“Hey, I took down your boss, I can take you down too!” She struggled.   
“It’s me! It’s me.” Pendergast said, running a hand over her hair and turning her to face him. “_Never_ do that again.”   
“It’s fine.”   
“It’s _not _fine.” Pendergast hissed. “It was—it was that _fucking cliff_ all over again. You can’t… _please_ don’t do that to me again.”

She leaned into the hug. “I didn’t know you cared so much.”   
“Of _course_ I care!” Pendergast hissed.   
“Women are—” Miller began, before Bean kicked him in the head. He slumped again.

Pendergast cleared his throat and stepped back. “I’m going to have to take him in, so you’ll be left here. Do you want to ride with another knight coming back for you, or do you want him to come with a horse for you?”   
“Horse, please.” Bean said. “Why can’t _you_ come back though?”

“Paperwork.” Pendergast shrugged, before extending a hand.  
Bean took it. “What…?”   
He shook her hand firmly, before saying loudly so that others could hear, “Princess, thank you for pretending to be with me so that we could take him down. I hope that you and this man that you love are happy together. …perhaps, we should avoid each other for a bit, so that the rumors will die down.”

Everyone was staring. He gave her a nod, before walking over to Miller and tying him up, then carrying him back to Carrots.   
Bean felt her cheeks burn as everyone continued staring at her. “Ha ha, nothing to see here, folks! I just… it was all a trap for Miller and his friends.”   
Sarah laid a hand on her shoulder. “Want to help me drink all this alcohol?”

“I would have thought you would have never drank again after what you saw.” Bean replied.   
Sarah shrugged. “Have you ever seen yellow wine?”   
“…no?” Bean tried.   
“Exactly.” Sarah said firmly. “And you look like you could use a drink.”   
“You don’t really look like the type to get wasted.” Bean said.

Sarah shrugged again. “It was becoming more and more preferable as the wedding drew near. You know, I actually admire you a lot.”   
“Really?” Bean asked, taken aback. “For the Pendergast thing?”   
“No, not for that. For… well, there are a lot of conventions, and you buck every one of them.” Sarah shrugged. “You… forge ahead, and I admire that.”   
“Well, thank you. …how’d you escape the house, by the way?”

Sarah led her over to the table, and poured them both a drink. “The old woman drugged their wine while they were eating. We both ran away when they were all knocked out cold. The ashes had blown away, but the lentils and peas were still there, so we found our way home again.”   
“Huh, pretty straightforward.” Bean said.   
“Mm… it was about a week ago. If that somehow didn’t work and he wasn’t arrested at the wedding, I have a knife hidden in my skirt.” Sarah took a sip of wine. “If I was going down, I was taking him with me.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Bean said, before Emily sat down with them. “Hello. Um… what’s the opposite of ‘congratulations on your wedding’?”   
“Congratulations… why does everyone always say ‘congrats’? Marriage isn’t some _accomplishment_.” Bean huffed.   
Sarah nodded sagely. “Congratulations on my impending widowhood?”

“You’d think it would be an annulment.” Emily said. “Since you didn’t have sex.”   
Sarah sighed. “You’re probably right.”   
“I mean, we could _say_ we saw you and him doing the nasty.” Bean said. “Before the ceremony.”   
Sarah swirled her wine thoughtfully. “I mean, it’s really a question of how dedicated I am to getting his house. It’s not even that nice of a house.”

“It just screams ‘murderer’.” Bean agreed.   
“Literally, with the bird!” Sarah added. “But my father will probably find another husband for me, and though there’s nowhere to go but up, I’m… scared.”   
Edgar plopped himself down next to them. “What’s up, ladies? Pendergast put me on Princess Protection.”

“Your date stole your horse, didn’t she?” Bean deadpanned.   
Edgar nodded. “Yeah… hey, so what’re you and Pendergast planning?”   
“What?” Bean asked, caught off-guard.   
“I mean, you’re not _really_ broken up.”

“We were never together to begin with.” Bean corrected.   
Edgar waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, you’re lying for something, I get it. I have to say, you’re a better liar than he is, I think he actively has to fight himself to lie or something. Man, he’s just _so_ honorable, y’know?”

“Why are you asking me? I’m not his girlfriend.” Bean snapped, even though she _did_ know.   
Edgar gave her an over-exaggerated wink. “Okay, don’t tell me. So, what’s new with you, Emily?”   
“I’m engaged.” Emily deadpanned. “To a man who is better than you in every way.”   
Edgar nodded slowly. “Okay, okay, I feel that. I’m picking up what you’re putting down. Um… how are you getting home though?”

Emily settled herself on her chair. “I expect Mortimer will be the one returning for the princess, in which case, I’ll just catch a ride with him.”   
Edgar frowned. “But… Pendergast…”   
“Has a lot of paperwork.” Sarah interjected brightly, seeing the look on Bean’s face. Bean knocked back her wine, then refilled her glass.

Mortimer reappeared soon, two horses trailing behind him, and they said their goodbyes.   
“You’re lucky the horse came back to the stables. Pendergast said it would have come out of your pay if your date had run off with it.” Mortimer said to Edgar, helping Emily up onto his horse as he did so.   
“Pfft. I trusted her.” Edgar said.   
“Where did you even find that woman?” Bean asked.

“There is a list of women who will do menial tasks—that aren’t prostitution—run by a man named Craig.”   
“You found her on Craig’s List?!” Mortimer demanded, before sighing. “Do _not_ tell Pendergast that if he asks.”   
Edgar gave him a thumbs up before swinging up and riding off. Edgar gestured to the other horse. “Sorry about that, princess. This is Ribbons, she’s a young mare, and she’s pretty loyal. Feed her an apple, and she’ll climb any mountain for you.”

Bean stroked the horse’s golden nose. “She’s beautiful.”   
“Yeah, she’s Excelsior’s… daughter.” Mortimer finally decided on that word. “All of the beauty, none of the temper. Usually, Lady Lingonberry rides her, but she’s been riding less since the death of her husband.”   
“Right. Yes. That.” Bean said.   
“Would you like an escort back to the castle, princess?” Mortimer asked. Emily leaned around him to nod at Bean.

“Ah, no, I’m fine.” Bean replied.   
Mortimer nodded, before mounting up and riding off with his sister.   
“I don’t know if I _ever_ want to go back there and see him, and have everyone just… _pity_ me.” Bean said to Ribbons, burying her face in the horse’s neck. “Because they all _know_, and he’s just…”   
Ribbons nickered softly.

“He told me to go be with the man I love!” Bean wailed, muffled by Ribbons’ neck. “No one can be that stupid, right? Why twist the knife further?”   
Ribbons gently nudged Bean’s head, because she was a horse and could not speak English.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friedrich's story is 'Bearskin', which is kind of a sister story to 'The Devil's Sooty Brother'. It's not as misogynistic, that's just Friedrich.


	15. You thought it was filler, but actually it was WORLD-BUILDING

Pendergast’s fingers burned, and he finally sat up, away from his desk. Most of the paperwork was done, and now he couldn’t avoid his thoughts anymore. Odval had stopped by earlier, and had an awkward talk with him, and then left, muttering about owing an apology to Bean.

Pendergast stretched, cracking his back, then proceeded into the stables. Brushing Carrots always helped him clear his head. Luckily, it didn’t seem like anyone was in there… though he saw a light at the far end near the other horses. Maybe a late night stable boy? At least the cat—demon—wasn’t there, riling up Carrots and Excelsior.

“…and I really enjoyed this past week.” He heard Bean say.   
Oh. Not a stable boy, then. She was probably talking to her… lover. He knew he shouldn’t snoop, but… he snooped anyway. She was sitting on the partition of Ribbons and Petticoat’s stalls, on Ribbons’ side, a bottle of beer next to her. Her dress was hiked up somewhat, and her hair was mussed. She was gorgeous to him, as always.

Bean took a sip of her beer. “I wish I would just… I don’t know. I’m glad I finally have someone to talk to that won’t talk back, you know?”   
Ribbons continued eating her hay.   
Who exactly had given her access to Ribbons? On paper, it was an excellent choice—Ribbons was well-mannered, beautiful, well-trained, and fairly young. Ribbons had only had one foal—the filly in the stall next to her, Petticoat. Unlike her mother and grandfather, Petticoat had a striking dark coat… just like her sire, Carrots. Pendergast didn’t really want to think about what it meant if Ribbons was her horse, since that meant…

Well, it didn’t have to mean anything, per se. It wasn’t like the horses represented them or anything. His horse simply went out to pasture with her horse _and dear God that sounded like a euphemism_. To make euphemistic problems worse, Ribbons and Carrots were both very… _particular_ horses. There was no reason for them to be, horses were in no way monogamous, but these two…

“Hey, how’d your date with Pendergast go?” _There_ was the demon-cat thing. And that was Pendergast’s cue to leave… but he didn’t.   
Bean snorted. “What, you mean the part where he broke up with me, or all the other parts?”   
“Oof. So, what happened, he got cursed by a witch or something?” The cat-demon thing looked right at Pendergast, before glancing back at Bean. She still hadn’t noticed Pendergast was standing there.  
“No. You know why we were ‘dating’ in the first place. We got Miller, so…” Bean took another swig of beer.

“Yeah, but…”   
That was when Pendergast decided to go back to minding his own business, as he should have been doing all along. And thankfully, his business was at the other end of the stable. Unfortunately, the cat-demon thing followed him. “So, why’d you break up with Bean, idiot?”   
“Because the ruse served its purpose.” Pendergast ground out.   
“Yeah, but it wasn’t a ruse.” Luci pointed out, scurrying up at the partition between the horses again. Pendergast took out a currycomb before entering Carrots’ stall locking it securely behind him. “You love her.”   
“Be that as it may, cat, she does not feel the same.”

“Right, right, because she’s been in here talking to Ribbons for hours for no reason.” Luci said.   
At the mention of Ribbons, Carrots turned his head towards Luci questioningly.   
“Yeah, Ribbons more or less has a new rider—you know her—and Pendergast here broke up with her.”   
Carrots nickered, and Luci sighed. “I am _not_ calling her that in front of Pendergast. Suffice to say, Ribbons has been treated to a long conversation about how stupid your rider is.”

Carrots ate a mouthful of hay, and Luci shrugged. “Fair point.”   
“You know, I’m not sure whether you can actually talk to the horses, or whether you’re just bullshitting me.” Pendergast said.   
Luci clutched his chest. “How dare you sir. What would it take for you to believe?”

“A goddamn miracle.” Pendergast shrugged. “Or for you to be trustworthy.”   
“Risking my very _existence_ to get you and Bean together isn’t _trustworthy_?!” Luci demanded. “Carrots, do you think I’m trustworthy?”   
Carrots flicked his tail, and Luci gasped. “Oh. Oh. I see how it is. I’m going back over to Bean and Ribbons, who _appreciate _me.”   
“Say hi to Petticoat for me.” Pendergast said, somewhat sarcastically.

Luci paused, and looked between Pendergast and Carrots. “Huh. I guess it’s true about people and their pets. Eventually they begin to resemble each other.”   
“What?” Pendergast asked, as Luci swung his legs. “Same question, different voices asking it, dumbass. Hey, why’re you in your dress uniform?”

“I’ve been doing paperwork for hours.”   
“That’s not what a happy man does.” Luci pointed out. “Unless you’re somehow more attracted to paperwork than Bean. Nerd.”   
Pendergast rolled his eye. “You know how I feel, cat. You take delight in reminding me at every turn. This isn’t a story, the knight doesn’t marry the princess.”

“Mm… this _is_ kind of a fairytale world…” Luci mused. “Like, it’d be hard to explain to you.”   
“Try.”   
“Well, our world is kind of layered in different ways. Story upon story upon story. Our section is more… what you’d call fairy-tales. Nearby, there are the sagas, and the folk songs.” Luci gestured vaguely.   
“There are still ways things have to work! Princesses marry princes, not knights!”   
“Keep it down, or she’ll hear you and cause more work for me.” Luci shrugged. “Look, there are _rules_, and then there are fairy tale _laws_. Yeah, most princesses wouldn’t marry most knights. But you’re not most knights, and she’s not most princesses. People don’t like a sad story.”

“Except for the part where she doesn’t love me. I’m not part of her story.”   
“Oh my god, it’s like talking to a wall!” Luci whined. “What will it take for you to realize that she _does_ love you?”   
“Maybe if _she_ said it instead of a lying demon-cat?”

“She’s said it in a million different ways!”   
“But never actually by _saying_ it.” Pendergast pointed out.   
Luci groaned. “Neither have you!”   
“I’ve been stopped from saying it so many times by fate that I can only assume it’s some divine intervention keeping me from putting my foot in my mouth.” Pendergast replied. “And before you comment, it’s an expression.”

“You’re no fun.” Luci huffed, before scampering away. After all, Bean had left, and it was beginning to rain.


	16. Here's what you've been waiting for: the bartender of the Flying Sceptre gets a name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't want to read the NSFW part, skip from _"Totally serious." She said_ to _"Why'd you do that?" She asked, drawing the blanket around herself. _

It rained, and rained, for the next two days. The bartender at the _Flying Sceptre_ was putting bottles under leaks as soon as Bean drained them—which wasn’t actually that often. She was a fun drunk, not a sad drunk, and drinking to forget wasn’t her style—which is why she was more sober than she—or the bartender—would have preferred.

“Hey, Luci, why aren’t you being more fun?” Elfo asked.   
“Oh, let me count the ways that I’m not motivated.” Luci swirled a finger around the rim of a shot glass. “Most important being, it’s not going to make her happy, you dweeb. So save it.”   
“Well, at least I’m _trying_.” Elfo huffed, before turning to Bean and spreading a deck of cards out. “Pick a card.”

Bean picked a card. “Uh… do I tell you what it is, or…?”   
“I don’t know, I never thought I’d get this far.” Elfo admitted. “Uh… Luci, what do I do?”   
“Hand out a card to everyone in the bar.” Luci lied.   
“Okay.” Elfo said.

That was when the Royal Guard entered. “By order of the king, everyone is to stay inside until the rain stops. You should get back to your homes while you still can.”   
People began to file out of the bar, and Bean hunched in on herself.   
“Princess, it’s time to go.” There he was.

“Good for you.” She replied, sipping her drink.   
_Crnch_. “Princess, you can’t stay here.”   
She finally turned. “Why didn’t you put another cough drop in?”   
Pendergast looked startled. “The rain means the apothecary’s out of them.”   
She dug the bag he gave her out of her pocket and handed it to him. “There you go.”

“Thank you.” He gave her a small smile as he tucked it into his own pocket.   
“Now leave me alone.” She huffed, pointedly not looking at that smile. “I’m staying.”   
Luci, meanwhile, scampered over to Edgar. “Hey, I don’t want to get wet. I won’t even start shit if you take me home while keeping me dry.”   
Edgar hesitated, before taking off his helmet and dropping it on Luci.   
“This’ll work.” Luci’s voice was muffled by the metal.

“You guys go, I’ll catch up with you later.” Bean said.   
Pendergast ground his teeth. “Princess, you need to—”   
Bean was unceremoniously dumped at Pendergast’s feet, to both their surprise. The bartender had tipped her stool, which he usually only did when she was _really_ drunk and he wanted her to leave.

“What the hell, Andrei?” Bean demanded.   
Andrei the bartender put his coat on. “I’m going home, and I don’t trust you with the alcohol here. Take your boyfriend and go.”   
“He’s not my boyfriend, and if you had been listening you would know that!” Bean griped.   
Andrei shrugged. “Look, the way I see it, the crown pays your tab. The knights are representative of the crown. This way, anything I serve you after they tell you to leave probably won’t get paid off.”

Bean made a face at him. “Rude.”   
Andrei shrugged. “Honest. I’m going home, you kids should too.” With that, he propelled Bean out of the bar. Luci, still in the helmet, Elfo, and the knights followed. Bean stumbled once Andrei’s support was gone, and Pendergast caught her. “Easy there, the mud’s really thick.”   
“I don’t need your help!” She hissed at him.   
He blinked at her, before sighing. “Edgar, take the cat and the elf back to the castle. Mertz, take Turbish and Mortimer and complete a check through of the town.”

The knights all headed off, leaving them alone as rain poured down on them.   
“So Bean, can I give you a ride back to the castle?” Pendergast asked.   
“I told you, I don’t need your help.” Bean replied.   
“Why not?” Pendergast asked, clearly getting frustrated. “I thought we were friends.”

“And I thought you _didn’t want to be seen with me_.” Bean growled.   
“For your reputation!” Pendergast protested. “Look, whatever you’re mad at me about, I can’t _fix_ it until you tell me!”   
“You want to know what I’m mad about?!” Bean demanded as lightning flashed overhead, illuminating her from behind. She looked terrifying, and beautiful, and he’d never been more in love with her.

“I’m mad about you being honorable, and making me laugh, and smile, and feel _seen_! I’m mad about you taking me seriously, and not being a dick about when I came to you for comfort and trying to protect me even if I don’t need it! I’m mad about you caring about my _reputation_ of all things, and I’m mad because I thought you cared about _me_!” She wiped at her eyes.   
“Are you okay?” He asked, thoroughly confused.   
“It’s the rain.” She said unconvincingly. “I’m mad because even on our fake date, you still went out of your way to make sure I had a good time! I’m mad because you always taste like peppermint and chamomile, and I’m mad because I love seeing you smile because you don’t do it often enough and your face lights up and it’s _great_! I’m mad because you listen to my concerns, and call your horse a bastard, and always chew on cough drops, and drop something if you think it’s bothering me!”   
“Well, if I don’t, you’ll headbutt me again.” Pendergast pointed out. “…I don’t understand _why_ these things make you upset. That’s just… me.”   
“I’m mad because I _love_ you, you idiot!” Bean finally burst out.

Pendergast stared at her for a long minute. Bean wiped at her eyes again. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She tried to move past him, but his hand shot out and encircled her wrist.   
“Let go.” She huffed.   
He did, but then he said, “Can I kiss you?”   
“What?”   
“Can I kiss y—”

She cut him off by giving him a peck on the lips. “There, now can I go?”   
“No, can I _kiss_ you—I’ll just show you.” He said, before pulling her close and kissing her thoroughly, his hands on either side of her head. His teeth scraped against her lower lip, his hands then moving to tangle in her hair and bring her even closer. She leaned in.

“I’m also mad that you kiss like that.” She muttered as they broke the kiss.   
Pendergast grinned at her, still cupping her face in one hand. “I love you too.”   
“What? Is this a pity thing?” Bean asked.   
“No, it’s not. …I would never be comfortable with that. It’s a, ‘I was stupid’ thing, and an ‘I love you too, like I said’ thing.”

“Say it again.” Bean said.   
“I love you.” Pendergast replied. “I love you so much it _hurts_. That’s why I didn’t want to see you, because I was hoping it would make the pain go away.”   
She smiled up him shyly. “Did it work?”   
“No.” He sighed.

She pulled his brigantine down so that she could kiss him. “Damn right it didn’t.”   
“We should probably get back to the castle.” Pendergast said once they broke the kiss. “We need to get out of these wet clothes.”   
“Slow down there.” Bean laughed. “We just kissed without having to be fake dating first.”   
Pendergast rolled his eye, but he was grinning anyway. “I missed you so much.”

She leaned against him. “Yeah, I missed you too.”   
He led her over to Carrots, and they got on. Carrots began struggling against the wind, rain and mud… and it definitely didn’t help that the castle was uphill.   
“I think we’re going to have to wait it out.” Bean said as Pendergast dismounted, trying to lead Carrots up the hill.

Carrots was having to shift constantly just to keep from sinking into the mud. He was _definitely_ not going up the damn hill.   
“It might not stop for a few more days.” Pendergast sighed. It was dark as well, and trying to lead Carrots up the hill wouldn’t work for either of them.   
“What about the other knights?” Bean asked.

“Mertz’s mother lives just outside of the town.” Pendergast shrugged. “That’s why he’s in charge. Okay, I think I have an idea.” He turned Carrots around, leading them back down the hill. He picked his way carefully through the town, before stopping at the inn. It was on relatively solid ground, water rushing past on either side. It was dry, and had an adjacent stable that was just as dry.

Pendergast pounded on the door, and the innkeeper answered. “Are you here about the devil’s sooty brother and my king as well?”   
“What?” Pendergast said, taken aback. “No. I’m here for two rooms.”   
“One room.” Bean said from the back of the horse.   
“I do only have one room.” The innkeeper agreed.

“And my horse needs to be stabled.” Pendergast said. “I’ll take care of him myself, but…”   
“Of course.” The innkeeper nodded.   
Bean slid off the back of Carrots as Pendergast led him into the stable. “Are you going to keep your armor on?”

“If I go inside, I’ll never come back out.” Pendergast smiled wryly. “I’ll be in soon.”   
“Suit yourself.” She followed the innkeeper inside. “Uh… what was that about the devil’s sooty brother and all that?”   
“He just showed up a while back. He pays well, but…” The innkeeper shrugged, then looked around. “Look, I do have two rooms, it’s just that one is next to him and the other is… not.”   
“I’m fine with going nowhere near him.” Bean agreed.

The innkeeper smiled. “Wonderful.” He led her down the corridor to the right, stopping at the furthest room. It had a double bed, and a chair under the window. On the chair were extra blankets.   
Bean shimmied out of her wet clothes, toweled off with an extra blanket, then dove under the covers on the bed to try and keep warm, shivering to herself as rain pounded the walls outside. 

Pendergast was led to the room a few minutes later, and promptly began getting out of his own armor.   
“Ah, there’s only one bed…”   
“Not like we haven’t shared before.”  
“Fair point. …where did you get the replacement clothes?” He asked.   
She snorted. “I didn’t.”   
He grew very still. “I’ll take the chair, then…?”

“No, we need to huddle together for _warmth_.” She drew the covers tighter around her.   
“With… wet clothes?” He asked.   
She glared at him, not that he could see it in the dark. “If you come into this bed and make it cold when I’ve been trying to warm it up, I’ll be mad, Pen.”   
“So I suppose I’ll lay my sword between us then—”

“Pen, just get in the bed. Dry off first with the blanket.” Bean interrupted. “It’s not like we haven’t been in bed together before.”   
“That was different.” Pendergast did as she said, though.   
“How was it different?”

“We weren’t naked, and I wasn’t focused on… I was focused on getting back to sleep.” His voice sounded husky when she pulled him over to her side of the bed.   
“Jesus, you’re cold.” She muttered, running her hands along his sides to try and warm him up and tangling her legs with his. “What was all that about the sword, anyway?”

“To protect your reputation, prin—Bean.” He replied.   
“Why? Nobody knows we’re here. We could do anything.” She shot back.   
His eye widened. “You don’t mean that.”   
She cocked her head. “Why wouldn’t I? Look… even if the worst happens, I want my first time to be with someone I love. Someone who loves _me_. I want to have at least one good time. Please, Pen?”

He ran his tongue over his teeth. “This is a deeply personal question, but how ready are you?”   
“Uh… well, you’re _super_ hot—in the handsome way, you still have ice hands—but if I’m being called wet, it’s because of the rain.”   
He bit his lip to hide a smile. “This is _serious_, princess.”   
She nodded. “Totally serious.”

He moved his hand down to check for himself, his thumb finding and circling her clitoris. She gasped.   
“Am I going too fast?”   
“Nngh… not fast enough, in my opinion.”   
He slid in one finger, then two, his thumb still circling and pressing. And then he _curled_ his fingers, and she gasped.

“Hmm, you seemed to enjoy that…” He muttered.   
She turned to make eye contact with him, and he was smiling. Her hands curled into his hair, just as his fingers straightened again, and began thrusting. Then he pulled them out, and she whined, before his head disappeared under the covers.   
“What’re you… _oh_.” She jerked her hips as his tongue—_his tongue_—moved. His teeth scraped against her clitoris, never hard enough to bite, but just hard enough to keep it interesting.

His hands stayed firm on her legs, and he just seemed so _eager_. “Pl-please fuck me?” She stuttered out, eyes fluttering.   
He lifted his head. “What was that, Bean?”   
“Please fuck me.” She repeated. “If you can.”

He grabbed her hips and pulled her down underneath him. “Oh, _if I can_?”   
She grinned up at him. “Yes—_agh_.”   
“Is this okay?” He asked, his pelvis up against hers.   
She nodded, curling her hands into his hair to bring his mouth down to hers. His hips began to move, and she gasped, biting his shoulder to keep from crying out.   
“Good?” He breathed.

“_Yes_, don’t stop!” She begged.   
He rose up on his knees and pulled her towards him, using a different angle to prop her up slightly on his lap. She wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles. This continued for a bit, before she sat up on his lap, biting his neck and wrapping her arms around his chest, her nails scratching his back.   
He groaned, and she smiled, feeling the sound vibrate against her.

Then she flipped him, straddling him herself and pinning him to the bed. “Were you getting tired, Pen?”   
“Never, Bean.” He replied, gently freeing a hand and using it to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned into his hand. “_Sappy_.”   
“You love it.” He replied, moving his hand down to where their hips met.

She ground her hips against his, and he stifled another moan. She leaned down, and kissed him, moving her pelvis at the same time. His hand began to move against her, faster and faster, in time with her hips.   
His eye widened. “You need to get off.”   
“Why? I’m having so much _fun_.” She smirked. “Besides, I am very much getting off.”   
He flipped her, gave her a few more thrusts, then abruptly pulled away.

“Why’d you do that?” She asked, drawing the blanket around herself.   
He smiled wryly. “Well, I decided it wasn’t the best time to ask you if you wanted to get pregnant.”   
She flushed. “Oh.”   
He returned, cradling her in his arms. “I… have this strange urge to thank you. For trusting me with this, for…”

“Dork.” She snuggled up against him, gritting her teeth as she felt pain in her abdomen.  
“Your dork, princess.” He ran a hand through her hair. “Forever and always.”   
“Ha, that sounds like a marriage proposal.”   
“Well, usually people have sex _after_ marriage.” He commented.

She laughed. “No they don’t, they just say they do. …if I had to marry anyone, it’d be you.”   
“Now who’s being sappy?” He asked, though he was grinning at her.   
She buried her face in his chest. “You’re rubbing off on me. …hey, Pen?”   
“Yeah?”   
“I love you.”

“I love you too, Bean.”  
“And I’m glad that you were the one who…” Here, she gestured vaguely.   
He grinned. “Yeah. Is it bad if I say, ‘any time’?”   
She laughed. “Asshole.”   
“Mm, not the hole I was thinking of…”   
She shook her head. “Jesus, I have sex with you once and you’re like this. Imagine if I do it more often.”   
“I have been imagining that for a while.” He admitted.

“Was it everything you imagined?” She teased.   
“And more.” He kissed the top of her head, slipping off his eyepatch with his free hand. “Now, let’s go to sleep…” So they did, lulled to sleep by the sound of the rain pounding against the inn, and each others’ heartbeats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the smut scene above is the one that I feel the most awkward about in terms of all the ones I have written. 
> 
> But, I've justified it because sex is awkward, and it's okay to laugh at awkward moments together. This would have been especially awkward, because it's the first time for both of them. They don't really know what they're doing. They're working it out together.


	17. No I cannot just let them be happy for a minute

Pendergast woke up at dawn, as usual. The rain had lessened to a drizzle, and he hazily considered getting out of bed. He had work to do, after all.   
That was when Bean rolled over and cuddled him, hooking her legs over his. “I can hear you thinking.” She teased groggily. “Go back to sleep.”

“Who am I to refuse a royal order?” Pendergast teased back, his head sinking back down onto the pillow. “I love you.”   
“Mmngh… I love you too, now _shush_.” She plopped her head on his shoulder pointedly, and promptly fell back asleep.   
He curled an arm around her.

When they next woke up, the rain had finally stopped.   
“What time is it?” Pendergast asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept this late.”   
Bean yawned. “I don’t know if I’ve woken up this early in years.”   
He laughed. “Well, we should probably be getting back to the castle, they’ll be missing us.”   
“And I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.”

“Not to rush you, but the best chance of food is probably _at_ the castle.” Pendergast shrugged.   
“Yeah, fair.” Bean slid out of bed, and Pendergast immediately flushed.   
“Why’re you making that face? We had sex. You’ve _touched_ me.” Bean pointed out.   
“I’ve never… it’s different in the daylight.” His hand suddenly clapped over his bad eye. “Ah shit, I forgot I had it off.”

Bean sighed. “It’s not that bad. …and I’m not that bad either, right?”   
“No no no, you’re… you’re perfect.” Pendergast said quickly.   
“You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked woman before.” Bean pointed out, picking her way over the clothes to get to his eyepatch and hand it to him. “And for the record, I like the way that you look too. Even with the eyepatch off.”

Pendergast flushed. “I… thank you.”   
“It’s the truth.” She shrugged.   
“…you’re not going to turn around so I can get out of bed?”   
“Nope. I showed you mine, I’m going to see yours.”   
“That sounds threatening.” Pendergast replied.

Bean laughed. “Sorry. C’mon though, I’m hungry.”   
Begrudgingly, he followed her out of bed, and began to dress.   
From behind him, she said, “So, _have_ you seen a naked woman before?”   
“I have now.”

“I thought you knights were all about that locker room talk?”   
He snorted. “Only Edgar was foolish enough to ask me about it and… I purposefully stay silent. I don’t like lying, but I have never… _paid_ for a woman, and I don’t need them questioning my authority because they think I’m…” He gestured vaguely.   
She hugged him from behind. “I kind of like it. You’re only mine, I don’t have to share you with anyone else.”   
He leaned into her touch. “That was never in doubt.”

“Dork.” He could hear the smile in her voice.   
“Your dork, princess.”   
“Forever and always?”   
“Forever and always.” He replied. “…now may I please put on my shirt so we can go eat something?”

She laughed. “Fair enough.” They finished dressing, including his armor, and left the room. The innkeeper was in the front room again, as well as a human-shaped… thing tuning a violin.   
“How much was the room?” Pendergast asked.   
“A silver Derek.” The innkeeper said.   
“Does this include the stabling of my horse?”

“You’re right—a silver Derek and two copper Tiabeanies.”   
Pendergast dug the money out of a pouch, and that was when the devil’s sooty brother moved. “Hello, princess. We finally meet.”   
He held out a gnarled hand with overgrown nails on it. She held her hands behind her back. “Uh, who are you?”

“Oh, you mean that low-level demon didn’t tell you about me? No matter. I am Hans. I expect that you and I will get to know each other very well soon.”   
The hair stood up on the back of her neck. “Ha, well, I’m not really _looking_ for a partner right now…”   
“I heard.” Hans replied. “I thought it fair to introduce myself to you before certain events were set in motion, though. After all, I doubt your knight will be able to stand against the forces on my side. Don’t worry, you’ll see that I’m not so bad.”

“Still not my choice.” Bean hissed. Pendergast, at this point, was next to her, a hand resting on his sword hilt.   
Bean grabbed his other arm.   
Hans shrugged. He stood about as tall as Pendergast, so neither could use their height to intimidate the other. “Perhaps. All I’m saying is, it doesn’t have to be difficult for you.”

“I think you should leave her alone now.” Pendergast growled, drawing his sword slightly to make a point.   
“I wasn’t asking you.” Hans snarled. “You get no warning, _knight_. Now, are you really going to attack an unarmed man and prove yourself the dishonorable dog I know you are, deep down?”   
“That depends. Are you really going to keep harassing a woman who clearly isn’t interested?”   
Hans moved aside. “Go on, then. I’ve said all I want to say to you.”

Shooting a glare at him, Pendergast followed Bean out.   
Hans waited until they were in the stable, before leaning against the window. “Innkeep? I’m afraid something’s been stolen from me.”   
The innkeeper blinked. “That’s a serious accusation. You might be able to catch Sir Pendergast though—he’s the captain of the Royal Guard, and an honorable man.”   
Hans scoffed. “Honorable… he’s the one who stole from me.”

“What? That can’t be right. What’d he steal?” The innkeeper asked, joining Hans by the windowsill. Hans watched Bean, who was standing outside the stables as Pendergast led Carrots out. “Her.”   
“I…” The innkeeper looked between Pendergast outside, and Hans in front of him. “What am I supposed to do about that?”   
Hans laid a hand on the innkeeper’s shoulder, and he flinched. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle my own situation. But to do so, I’m going off into the forest. When I return, my appearance will be… different. I would like to stay in my room, if I may.”

“Of-of course. What will you look like?” The innkeeper said, otherwise frozen to his spot.   
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll look like a man.” Hans squeezed the innkeeper’s shoulder. “I’ll be back soon, within the next day or so. I must summon the devil to me, after all.”   
The innkeeper nodded slowly, and Hans left the inn. The innkeeper waited until he was out of sight, then ran for the cathedral. At a full sprint, he passed Pendergast and Bean, who were still worried about Carrots slipping in the mud.

“Wonder where he’s off to in such a hurry.” Pendergast muttered into Bean’s hair.   
“Maybe he’s going to cash the money you gave him.” She replied. “I wouldn’t keep it on me either with _that guy_ around.”   
“He’s not going to hurt you.” Pendergast said firmly.   
“I know, I know, he’s not a threat…”

“No, as in, I will _skewer _him if he tries to touch you without your consent.” Pendergast growled.   
“What happened to killing a man is something you can’t take back?” Bean demanded.   
“It gets easier after the first time. I… my sword belongs to your father, but you? I would kill for you.”   
“Getting a little intense there, Pen.” Bean leaned against him. “I don’t like that guy either, but uh…?”   
“How is that less intense than ‘I love you’?” Pendergast asked, setting his head on top of hers. “Or what you were saying this morning? If it makes you feel better, I would do the thing I’m paid to do for you.”

Bean laughed. “Yeah, okay, when you put it like that it sounds a lot better.”   
That was around the time that they reached the castle courtyard, and Pendergast dismounted, before helping Bean down.   
“Where have you been?” Odval said. “The princess’ cat and elf were beside themselves all night. I know because they somehow decided to complain to _me_ about this.”   
Bean leaned over and kissed Pendergast on the cheek. “That’s my cue to leave. See you later.”

With that, she headed into the castle.   
Odval stared at Pendergast. “…let’s talk in my office.”   
Pendergast dutifully followed him, then stood, hands clasped behind his back while Odval sat down. “So, last week, you and the princess were not _truly_ romantically involved, but instead putting on a façade, so as to draw out the criminal Charles Miller and his gang, now in the dungeon?”

“Yes sir.” Pendergast said.   
“And once the operation was concluded, so was your relationship with the princess?” Odval pressed.   
“Yes sir.”   
“So why are you helping her off of your horse and she’s kissing you on the cheek?” Odval asked, leaning back in his chair. “Where were you, last night?”

“We got caught by the rain and stayed at the inn.” Pendergast said, before straightening and continuing. “As for the expressions of affection—”   
“I wouldn’t go _that_ far.” Odval muttered. “It was much more restrained than that embrace that her father and I walked in on…”   
Pendergast cleared his throat, flushing. “I love her. And she loves me. And when she’s ready, I have every intention of asking her father for her hand in marriage.”

Odval watched him for a long moment. “Did you… dishonor her, Pendergast?”   
Pendergast’s blush deepened. “Like I said, I have every intention of asking for her hand in marriage. I didn’t force her, if that’s what you’re wondering!” He finished quickly.   
“Oh no, that’s not what I was thinking at all.” Odval rubbed his temples. “When did this happen?”   
“Um, I wasn’t looking at the clock…”   
“No, the feelings!” Odval snapped.

“Over the past week, as we were spending time together.” Pendergast admitted. “I know I’m not a suitable marriage prospect for a princess—”   
Odval held up a hand. “For a regular princess? For, say, Marianne of Kirschen? Of course not. For Tiabeanie of Dreamland? You’re more than good enough for her.”   
“Is that an insult to the woman I love, or a compliment?” Pendergast asked wryly.

Odval stood up, and walked over to the window. “Join me, Pendergast.”   
Pendergast joined him. “What are we supposed to be looking at?”   
“Dreamland.” Odval replied. “Full of life, full of _good people_. I confess, I have an ulterior motive; if what you say is true, and she does love you, keeping her happy keeps Dreamland… well, from drowning. You know what she is.”

“She’s Bean.” Pendergast replied firmly. “All that encompasses her, human or not, she’s… she’s Bean.”   
Odval watched him for a moment, before laying a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve always been so sure of what you want, but you’re also a romantic at heart, Pendergast. Are you sure about this?”   
“Down to the marrow in my bones.”   
“Even if she costs you everything?” Pendergast opened his mouth to reply, and Odval continued, “And don’t you dare say she’s your everything.” Pendergast shut his mouth, then replied, “I’m sure about this.”

Odval gave his shoulder a friendly, fatherly squeeze. “Then I will do everything in my power to help you.”   
“To save Dreamland?” Pendergast asked.   
“Because I want you to be happy. I trust your judgment. And I know you don’t like thinking about your father, so please accept me saying this in his place… I’m proud of you. I’m proud of the man that you’ve become. And I wish you nothing but happiness, with her or otherwise.”

“I… thank you.” Pendergast said, before lurching forward and giving Odval a quick hug, then backing away quickly as if he could deny it.   
Odval waved him off. “Go on, I’ll handle the paperwork-and-Zog aspect of it all. Your princess is probably waiting for you in another part of the castle.”   
Pendergast nodded, and left.

Odval sat down at his desk, musing to himself. A hug. Careful, guarded Pendergast, who hid away the most vulnerable, loving parts of himself, gave Odval a hug. Perhaps the princess _was_ good for him—drawing him out of his shell a bit. Letting him love openly.   
Odval slid open Moonpence’s door. “Miss Moonpence? Please fetch me the good sherry. …and the vassal marriage documents”   
“Long night, sir?” Moonpence asked sympathetically.

“Not as long as it could be.” Odval admitted. In a fit of madness, he asked, “Do you have children?”   
“I… one, sir.” Miss Moonpence admitted. “A son. Aaron. He’s little more than a baby, he lives with his father in the village.”   
Odval nodded. “A son… then you must understand my pride at Sir Pendergast’s happiness.”   
“Yes sir.” Miss Moonpence sounded relieved—that, at least, she could do, and this was going better than she’d expected. “I’d do anything to make my son happy.”

“Which is why I want those vassal marriage documents.” Odval leaned back in his chair. “After all, even if I ranked the Griffiths family relatively low since their loyalty is already assured… he is still a vassal.”   
“Yes, sir.” Miss Moonpence said dutifully. A few minutes later, she slid out the documents he’d requested... as well as the good sherry, glass gently placed on top of the bottle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Miss Moonpence's kid is actually the innkeeper's child-- the one that picked up Luci and carried him around. (Luci likes kids, shh.) The reason she was so reticent to answer is that she's _Miss_ Moonpence. Everyone in town kind of knows that she and the Innkeeper aren't married, but no one really knows why not. 
> 
> Odval honestly didn't know when he hired her, but fuck it, she's a good secretary. He's not going to make it a problem _now_ especially when he's in a good mood over His Boy. Besides, it's not like he'd ever asked before.


	18. Pendergast has a very specific code of honour

Pendergast could be forgiven for not noticing the stranger the next day. He was stationed in the throne room, checking incoming petitioners against his list of insurgents. He could also be forgiven for not noticing the fiddle. He was keeping an eye out for an incredibly dirty, animalistic person, he didn’t notice the regular people walking past. In particular, a man with clean, dirty blond hair, green clothes, a neatly trimmed beard and moustache, and tired blue eyes looking around the room.

Bean came downstairs in the middle of the petitioning. “Hey, Pen.”   
He planted a kiss on her forehead. “Hey, Bean. I’ll go with you once I finish up here, okay?”   
“Aw c’mon, it’s not like anything’s _happening_.” Bean replied. “And my dad’s got the hole if anything does.”

That was when Hans stepped up in front of the king, and began to play the fiddle.   
“Wait, who’s that?” Bean asked Pendergast, her voice beginning to rise in agitation.   
“He didn’t give a name—you don’t think…?” Pendergast asked, glancing worriedly between her and Hans. He stepped in front of her, ready to draw his sword.

Hans finished with a flourish and a bow.   
“Wow, that was great! Hey, you want to marry my daughter?” Zog asked.   
“_What_?!” Surprisingly, it didn’t come from Pendergast, who was pale, or Bean, who looked furious. It didn’t come from Luci, skulking by the staircase, or Elfo, who had fallen down the stairs. It had come from Odval.

“Sire, we don’t know anything about him!” Odval continued. “He just… showed up! With a fiddle!”   
“Yeah, but he played it really well.” Zog said. “And I’m the king.”   
“I, for the record, would be honored, sire.” Hans said, shooting a smirk at Pendergast and Bean.   
“There, y’see? What’s the problem?” Zog asked Odval. “She needs to get married anyway—the nuns won’t have her, and there’s only one other thing a woman can do, and my daughta’s not becomin’ a whore.”

Odval rubbed his temples. “There has to be someone _better_ than… who are you, again?”   
“Hans.”   
“Oh, wonderful, he doesn’t even have a surname, sire!” Odval pointed out.   
“That’s okay, we got one already.” Zog replied.

That was when Bean stepped out from behind Pendergast. “I’m _not_ marrying him!”   
“Why not? He’s… he can play the fiddle well. I don’t know anything about this man, but I’m sure he’ll be a great husband.” Zog pointed out.   
“I won’t use a belt.” Hans agreed.   
“He won’t use a belt to beat you! Don’t I know how to pick husbands for ya?” Zog added.

Bean stared at him in horror. “_No_. I’m not marrying him, and you absolutely cannot make me! A day ago, he looked like an animal!”   
“The devil cleaned me up.” Hans said.   
“He’s _literally_ in league with the devil.” Odval hissed. “If it’s so important that we marry off the princess immediately, I’m sure we can find a better candidate.”   
“Nah, that’ll take too long.”

“Sir Pendergast is her age and he’s _right there_. You, Hans, how old are you?”   
“Counting the seven years I spent in Hell? 42. Not counting them? 35.” Hans said calmly.   
“Dad, are you mad at me or something?! This is insane!” Bean protested.   
“What, I’m just tryin’ to make sure you’re taken care of.” Zog shrugged. “You need to get married, Beanie.”

Bean grabbed Pendergast’s hand, from where he had been frozen in shock. “Then I choose Pen!”   
“But I already said you were going to marry Hans.” Zog replied.   
“Well, I’m not a virgin, so there!” Bean hissed.

Pendergast turned red.   
“I don’t mind. I’ll even pay for the treatment from the apothecary.” Hans said.   
“Treatment…?” Bean asked.   
“An abortifacent, Tiabeanie.” Odval sighed. “Since you’re unchaste, it’s… just as likely that any child you were to bear from your union with this 35 year old man who showed up out of nowhere would not be… his.”   
“Well, duh, I’m not going to have sex with him!” Bean said.

“It’ll be hard to pass off your bastards as mine if you don’t.” Hans shrugged. “Don’t worry, I have no intention of letting my husbandly rights slip away.”   
“You’re _seriously_ going to let him marry her after he says _that_?” Pendergast finally spoke up.   
“Watch yourself, Gast.” Zog growled. “If he’s gonna marry her, he has rights.”

“Sire, I—may I have her hand in marriage instead?” Pendergast asked. “Especially since the requirements seem to be incredibly low?”   
“Gast, sounds like you’re edging close to disrespect there.” Zog said. “Which is odd, ‘cause outta everyone in this room, I never thought _you_ were going to sass me.”   
Pendergast drew a shaky breath. “I… took vows, when I became a knight. Not just my oath of fealty, but... vows I cannot follow if I’m following _him_. Please. It doesn’t have to be me, just… someone who will make her happy. Someone whose best isn’t _he won’t use a belt_.”

“And Pen’s the only one who can make me happy.” Bean chimed in, lacing her fingers with Pendergast’s.   
“And of the two, he has an impeccable service record, he’s loyal to the crown, and he has a _surname_.” Odval muttered.   
For just a minute, it looked like Zog was about to be swayed. And then he looked at Hans, who was standing with his arms crossed, not looking worried at all.

“I also have a knapsack full of gold.” Hans said.   
“Welcome to the family, man who’s old enough to be my daughter’s father!” Zog proclaimed.   
“Oh, we’re doomed for sure.” Luci said.   
“What’s that…?” Elfo asked blearily, having just regained consciousness. “…did I miss anything?”   
“…I’ll fill you in later.” Luci said.

“Uh, we’re just going to… leave now.” Bean said.   
“Well, I’m only going to pay once. I’m not made of money.” Hans commented.   
“Ha, I hate you so much.” Bean grimaced. “Come on, Pen. Luci, Elfo, we need to regroup.” She took Pendergast’s hand and stomped out of the room, Luci dragging Elfo behind them.

They regrouped in her room, Pendergast on the couch, Bean pacing the room.   
“I think the elf needs medical attention.” Pendergast pointed out.   
Elfo sat up. “I’m fine, I’ve actually had worse from just Sorcerio.”   
“That is who I would have suggested bringing you to.” Pendergast muttered, before looking at Bean. “You need to go.”

“What? It’s my room.”   
He stood up. “No, you need to grab these two, some essentials, food, and head for Kirschen. Marianne will harbor you—you’re friends, right? I’ll saddle up Ribbons for you.”   
“Okay, so the four of us—”   
“I’m not going.” Pendergast interrupted.

“Oooh, drama.” Luci said.   
“What?” Bean asked, ignoring him. “But I… but you… what?”   
“I told you, I swore vows when I became a knight. It would dishonor me if I…” Pendergast trailed off.

“So is your honor worth more to you than me?!” Bean demanded.   
“No it’s—Tiabeanie, who am I without my honor? Am I truly a man you’d want to be with?!” Pendergast asked, before holding her close. “You are… my everything. But I can’t… _justify_ just turning my back on Dreamland. I would never be who I am—_where _I am—if it wasn’t for your father and Odval, and I cannot repay that by abandoning my duty.”

“That’s what you meant by ‘your sword belongs to my father’.” Bean said slowly. “It’s always going to come down to duty with you, isn’t it? Well, fine, then I’m staying with you!”   
“Terrible idea.” Luci commented. “We should all ride for Kirschen immediately.”   
“Nothing changes! You’d be forced to marry _him_, and I… I would sooner break every vow I’ve ever made than lie with a married woman.”

“Pendergast coming in with a new terrible thing to say.” Luci said. “And also a really weird moral line to draw.”   
“Yes, thank you, Luci. It _is_ a weird moral line to draw!” Bean pointed out.   
Luci shrugged. “Though now that I think about it, we’re in a world where fairytale convention punishes adulterous women and their lovers. Harshly. And the crystal ball thing specifically warned me against you two committing adultery.”

“Whose side are you on?” Elfo asked.   
“My own.” Luci flicked his tail.

“Why not just…?” Bean gestured vaguely, ignoring Luci and Elfo on the couch.   
Pendergast cupped her face in one hand. “You once said you loved me in part because of my honor. You said… a lot of stuff about who I am. But I don’t know who that is if I can bear to break those vows. Including the one that I made as a lonely child who dreamed of being a knight.”   
“The adultery one?” Bean guessed.   
Pendergast nodded. “I… read a lot of ‘King Arthur’ stories when I was a kid. And Lancelot and Guinevere brought down a kingdom, or at least partially helped. And I decided, that no matter what else… I could at least say I’d be better than them. I’m yours until you walk down that aisle.”

Bean wiped at her eyes. “Well… still better than the last time you broke up with me.”   
Pendergast laughed wryly. “Yeah… that one I will admit was a bad idea.”   
“Okay, okay, idiots.” Luci scrambled over. “This isn’t time for you to start making out. What’re we doing if we’re not hauling ass to Kirschen?”

“Didn’t you have a plan if the devil’s sooty brother pulled this exact shit?” Bean demanded. “With the fiddle?”   
“Oh yeah… Hey, Pendergast, where are the nearest Vikings?” Luci asked.  
“What?” Pendergast said, his hands slipping to Bean’s waist as he turned to look at Luci.

Luci stretched like a cat. “Well, we really only have two options since Pendergast over here wants to be all honorable and shit. Have someone outplay the man taught by the devil to play the fiddle, _or_ we find a luck-child.”   
“What’s a luck-child?” Bean asked, sitting down next to him.   
“Every so often, there’s someone who’s… particularly lucky. The best example is the current king of Aarne, who was born a miller’s son. It was prophesied that he’d marry the king’s daughter, and so the king threw him into the ocean. Except, the baby survived, and drifted in his basket to another family, who adopted him. Years later, the king returned, and the new family proudly showed out their son. The king realized who he was, and sent him with a letter to the queen. The letter _originally_ said to kill the kid, but the kid fell asleep in a robber’s den. You both are making a face, but it ended up a lot better than Miller’s house. They replaced the letter with one saying he should marry the princess. And apparently it went a lot better than this current situation. The point is, a luck-child is someone who somehow survives despite the odds. Everything somehow turns out okay for them even when shit gets real.”

“Like falling off a cliff and landing without a scratch?” Elfo asked blearily.   
“Yeah—I just said that. Are you okay?” Luci poked him experimentally. “Do you need a doctor? You’re fucked if you do—they don’t have one here.”   
“No, no. I just meant… that’s what Bean did.” Elfo pointed out.   
“Technically, that’s what everyone in the room besides me did.” Pendergast added.

Luci looked back and forth between Bean and Elfo. “Oh my _god_… okay, this is good! I mean, my point about the king of Aarne was that he managed to steal three hairs off of the devil’s head, so… you should probably be able to get rid of Hans. Probably. It’s not certain.”

“So we’re back where we started. Any other ideas, before I saddle up Ribbons?” Pendergast asked.   
“Yeah, see, that’s my point. This stuff isn’t really planned, it’s more luck.” Luci pointed out. “This’ll all probably work out, but not in the way we were expecting. Like Merkimer. We straight up tried to murder him—long story— but he turned into a pig!”   
“You do know I’m not actually blind, right? I did see what happened on the boat.” Pendergast pointed out.

“Ahhhhh… so Bean, about running away to Kirschen…” Luci trailed off.   
“I’m more concerned with the fact that Pendergast didn’t arrest us for that.” Elfo pointed out.   
Pendergast cleared his throat. “Well… you see, it didn’t _technically_ hurt anyone… and it got rid of Merkimer… partially… and it probably would have stopped a major diplomatic incident when she stabbed him to death on the wedding night Marianne style.”

“So you can bend your honor a bit, when it suits you.” Bean pointed out.   
“No, I definitely would have taken you into custody if I had had reliable witnesses and Merkimer had actually died… would have been his own fault though, I would have testified to that in court…” Pendergast muttered. “Whatever, this isn’t about who I did or didn’t arrest, right now we have to deal with Hans, and you’ve led us off on more than one tangent, cat.”

“Demon! De-mon!” Luci squawked. “Say it with me—I’m not a cat, and you know that!”   
“I’m not a cat, and you know that.” Pendergast repeated, cracking a small smile.   
“_Guys_, focus!” Bean said, rubbing her temples. “Luci, you said you had an idea. What is it?”   
Luci looked between her and Pendergast. “I really, really don’t want to say it. If I say it, there’s no going back.”

“Stop being dramatic.” Elfo, of all people, huffed. “How bad can it be?”   
“It was outlawed by the Devil himself. If I say it, I’m truly throwing in the towel as a demon. I’m _stuck_ with you guys for eternity—which won’t be that long, since I will be able to die.” Luci hissed. “I don’t even know what I’ll _be_—I’ve never heard about a mortal demon before.”   
“So… you’re not going to tell us?” Elfo scoffed. “Lame. I bet you _want_ her to marry Hans—you’d get to keep your cushy little job, while the rest of us suffer.”   
Luci arched his back, offended. “Ew, no I don’t want her to marry the janitor.”

“I don’t know, man. I’m seeing a lot of escalation with no pay-off. How do we even know this’d work?” Elfo raised an eyebrow. “It could be another trap. At the end of the day, you’re not trustworthy, Luci.”   
“How dare you. I have done nothing but work my ass off to get these two idiots together.” Luci spat. “I deserve a little respect from _you_, at least.”   
“You’re trying to fail us all at the last minute. I didn’t know you had it in you.” Elfo scoffed.

“Guys!” Bean snapped.   
“Alright!” Luci yelled. “I’ll tell you about the man who beat the Devil in a fiddling contest!”   
The room began to glow with a white light, emanating from Luci.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the stories Pen and Luci mention are 
> 
> 1) The stories of King Arthur, presumably La Morte d'Arthur by Pen (Thomas Mallory), since it is one of the Big Arthurian Stories.   
2) The Devil with the Three Golden Hairs by Luci (Grimm Brothers) even if he hadn't wound up to the part with the actual Devil yet. That was the point of the story, guys, that this guy was able to slip into the Devil's home and back out with HAIR from the Devil (the Devil being blonde) without being caught, and that they needed someone like that. It also got adopted into Jim Henson's 'The Storyteller', but the Devil element is removed. That version is called 'The Luck-Child' if you want to watch it.


	19. You know, like nya?

“Luci, are you okay?” Bean asked worriedly.   
“Get-get me a mirror.” Luci replied, his voice shaking.   
“It’s not… _that_ bad.” Pendergast said.

“My vision has _fucking changed_, numbnuts! I can see out of both eyes in front!” Luci wailed.   
Bean went to the often forgotten vanity, and picked up a hand-mirror. She brought it back to the couch, sitting down next to Luci. “See?” The mirror was too dusty to see anything, and Luci pointed this out, so Bean hurriedly wiped it on her trousers. “Okay, there we go. See?”

Luci stared into the mirror.   
A big, black, fluffy cat stared back. Luci lifted a hand… and a paw moved instead. Luci began screaming.   
“It’s not that bad!” Bean said quickly.   
“You! You did this to me with your _cat talk_!” Luci pointed an outraged paw at Pendergast.   
“How did I do this?” Pendergast asked.

Luci turned, having no good answer, and let out a mournful cry. “My _tail_! It’s all _fluffy_ and shit! I’m no longer _bipedal_…! Why do bad things happen to bad demons?”   
Bean pulled Luci into her lap and began petting him. “Aw, c’mon. It’ll be okay. You’re no longer cold, right?”   
“Right.” Luci muttered. “It’s about the only good thing about this.”

“And they can’t hurt you anymore, right?” Elfo added.   
“They took away my dignity!” Luci spat.   
“So why not get back at them and tell us?” Pendergast finished.   
Luci struggled out of Bean’s arms. “Alright, fine. Here’s what I know. We’re in the land of fairytales, but Hell has access to all lands across the Earth—including folk songs. There’s a guy named Johnny or something in Georgia, who beat the devil at fiddle-playing. The devil taught Hans, so this guy can help us. Presumably.”

“How do we find him?” Bean asked.   
Luci hopped up on her coffee table. “That’s the tricky part. We need to sail off the edge of our world through the saga-lands, to the folk song lands. We’re going to need a Viking to take us.”   
“Is that all?” Bean asked. “We can find a Viking, no problem!”

Luci shot her an annoyed look. “Right, and _hopefully_ they won’t know your buddy Sven.”   
“Sven died.” Bean said.   
Luci began licking his paws. “Did he? The jester falls through the same holes pretty much every day and he always comes back good as—wait, what the hell am I doing? _Gross_.”   
“That’s a problem to cross later.” Pendergast said. “Finally, we’re in my area of expertise.” He led them to the council room, and began pulling maps out from under his seat.

He spread them over the table, then beckoned them close. “Right; I try to keep these updated as often as possible, so this is our best bet. The Vikings’ ships are designed for both land and sea, so it’ll be easier to find a Land Viking than a Sea Viking. There’s a colony established outside Bentwood, around the Lake of Trees. It’d be… Bentwood is up against our southern border, so maybe a day and a half’s ride?”   
“Right, so Ribbons?” Bean asked.

“Yes… I think I’d prefer you on a horse that could be more… easily abandoned. If this works, you should have them drop you off at the docks of Dreamland, it saves time.” Pendergast shrugged. “Just make sure you send her off without a rider, she’ll come home.”  
“Why are you saying ‘you’? Isn’t this an ‘us’ thing?” Bean laughed nervously.   
“I think he’s going to try to break up with you again.” Luci groaned.

“I’m not!” Pendergast hissed at Luci, before turning back to Bean and taking her hands in his. “You go off on your own with your cat and elf? That’s normal, and I can keep the guards from getting too suspicious. I go with you? We’ve clearly run off together and we wouldn’t be coming back. That’s when they start combing the countryside, the forest, the neighboring kingdoms for us. And then that’s when they start tracking you down. Look, this isn’t necessarily my skill set. I’ll be waiting here for you to come back, but you don’t need me to go with you.”

“Maybe I just _want_ you to come with me.” Bean huffed. “Ever think of that?”   
Pendergast pulled her close. “I’ll be here for you.”   
Luci made a gagging noise. Everyone looked at him.   
“Oh, that was just a hairball, but by all means; continue your nasty-ass saccharine shit.” Luci waved a paw at them. “Get it all out now.”

Pendergast pulled his maps away from Luci. “Not on the table.”   
“Fine, I’ll yak up my own hair—super gross—in your shoe.” Luci snapped. “You think I wanna be a cat?”   
Bean ignored him, and stepped over to Pendergast, pulling him into a kiss. “You can be such an idiot, but… you’re my idiot. And I’m not going to let stupid Hans come between us.”   
Pendergast cupped her face in his hand. “Neither will I.”   
“Is that another vow?” She smirked.

He chuckled. “Sure, why not?”   
Luci stretched. “Because if this doesn’t work, you’ll have two contradicting vows vis a vis your earlier, ‘never have sex with a married woman’ thing, and the moral quandary will probably split you apart, because no matter what you’ll do, you’ll break a vow?”   
“Yes, but that’s not going to happen.” Pendergast answered.   
Luci yawned. “Maybe not. Hey, I’ve been wondering, what happens if you lie?”

Pendergast blinked rapidly. “Why are you bringing that up?”   
“’Cause oath-breaking is a lot like lying, right? Surely you’d have to live with the consequences of lying constantly if you break an oath.” Luci pointed out.   
Pendergast grimaced. “As if I need more reason not to break an oath… I get really bad headaches if I lie. Usually they stop once I tell the truth, but…”   
“Have you ever been able to push through them?” Luci asked.   
“No, they just get more intense.” Pendergast said defensively. He popped a cough drop in his mouth reflexively.

“What a normal, human reaction to a super common thing.” Luci mused, rolling over onto his back.   
“I’m not human, and I can lie.” Elfo pointed out. “So can you.”   
Luci rolled over onto his side, and looked at Elfo. “God, you look weird with two eyes looking at you at once. For once, you made an excellent point.”   
“I also made you tell us about the guy who beat the devil at fiddling.”

“No you di… oh my God, I got played by _Elfo_. I deserve to be a cat!” Luci wailed.   
Pendergast rolled up one of the maps, and handed it to Bean. “You should go lie to your father, and I’ll go saddle up Ribbons.”   
“What’re you going to do if you can’t lie and maintain it, though?” Bean asked, holding the map close.   
Pendergast shrugged. “I can’t lie, but I can… dodge. Ask misleading questions. Say something that sounds related, but actually isn’t.”   
“This sounds a lot like your justification for not arresting Bean for attempted murder.”

“Attempted murder is a lot harder to prove than murder. Besides, no one pressed charges, and it’s—well, it _was_ unlikely that she’d strike again.” Pendergast picked up the rest of the maps and put them away.   
“You’ve been thinking about that for a while, huh?” Bean asked.   
_Crnch_. “You could tell?”

“Yeah, just like I could tell you already bit down on your cough drop.” Bean smiled, before leaning in and kissing him. “We better get going. The faster we get to the Bay of Trees, the faster we can get rid of Hans.”   
“And that’s something we can all get behind.” Pendergast said, gently kissing her forehead. “Remember to pack food and water.”

He left the room first. Bean immediately headed to her room, and got a big satchel.   
“What’s that for?” Luci asked.   
“You.” Bean replied, picking him and gently putting him in. “Since you can’t ride a horse anymore.”   
“Hmm.” Luci curled up. “I’m not going to dispute that.”

Next stop was the throne room. Hans had left, but Zog and Odval were still there.   
“So, Dad, to uh… prepare for the wedding, I’m going on a little trip. Just a girl’s night… with my cat. And Elfo. For several days.” Bean said.   
Luci poked his head out of the bag.   
“What happened to your cat?” Zog asked. “He’s all… fluffy. And normal.”

“Long story.” Bean sighed.   
“Are any guys goin’ on this trip?” Zog asked suspiciously.   
“Just Elfo, and I don’t think he even really counts. Like sexually, I mean.”

“Not Pendergast?” Odval asked, raising an eyebrow.   
“Why would Pendergast be coming to my bachelorette party?” Bean smiled sweetly.   
“Well, if it makes you marry Hans without another Guysbert incident, I’m down for it.” Zog said.   
Bean grinned. “Thanks, Dad.”

Next stop was the kitchen to grab food and water canteens.   
“Ow, hey.” Luci whined as they were put on top of him.   
“I’m not carrying two bags, Luci.” Bean pointed out. “We gotta go.”   
“Fine.” Luci grumbled.

Last stop was the courtyard, where Pendergast was waiting with Ribbons saddled up.   
“You got everything?” Pendergast asked.   
“Of course.” Bean replied.   
“Trick question; you don’t have a way to protect yourself that doesn’t involve throwing the cat.” Pendergast pulled a sheathed knife out of his sleeve.

“What’s that?” Bean asked.   
“It’s my lucky knife. It… one time, our camp was attacked during the Crusades while we were sleeping. This knife is the only thing that saved me, gave me long enough to get my sword and shield. And now it goes to you to protect you. …I want it back, though.” He offered her a small smile.

“And I’ll be back to give it to you.” Bean promised, slipping the knife into her boot. Pendergast cupped his hands, and she stepped into them, using him to boost up onto Ribbons. He handed her Elfo.   
“So, obviously we all looked at the map you handed Bean, but how does that translate into actual directions?” Luci asked from the bag.

“Follow the road to the forest—go straight through, do _not_ stop, the forest is dangerous after dark and it’ll slow you down—until you find the river running through the forest. At which point, follow it the way it’s coming from, until you get to Landnam Falls. At which point, you’re going to need to cross the river, go up and around, and then leave the forest. The Bay of Trees is surrounded by hills, if you’re going up, you’re going in the right direction. Don’t follow the river too long, you’ll hit Bentwood.” Pendergast listed off. “Got all that?”

“Kinda. Luci, you get that?” Bean asked.   
“Yeah, pretty much.”   
“You have the map in case you get lost.” Pendergast said. “…you should probably cover your hair.”   
“Why?” Bean asked.

“Because if the moonlight hits it, it’ll light up as a beacon.” Pendergast shrugged. “It’s very nice and romantic when you’re here, but out there…”   
“Luci, there’s a red cloak in my room. Can you run and get it real quick?” Bean asked.   
“Ugh, _fine_.” Luci grumbled, jumping out of the bag and heading into the castle. He briefly tried to get up on two legs, before falling on his back and rolling back onto his feet.

“I have a feeling he’s going to do a lot of that.” Pendergast muttered.   
Bean laughed. “You sure you don’t want to come with us?”   
Pendergast patted the horse. “…I want you to come back. And if I leave with you, there’s no… I mean, there is but…”   
“You think I’d just leave if you were gone. …probably, given Hans.” Bean admitted. “Why do you want me to come back, then? You were the one who said I should run.”

“A bunch of reasons.” Pendergast replied.   
“Pick one.”   
“It’d be boring without you here.”   
“So come with me.”

“That sounds an awful lot like running, princess.” Pendergast raised an eyebrow. “Scared?”   
“Of course I’m scared.” Bean huffed.   
“God, you’d be crazy not to be. But you want to know what a wise man once told me?” Pendergast looked towards the castle. “Being brave isn’t about just charging into things—it’s about facing your fear head on. That’s the difference between bravery and cowardice.”

“So you’re scared too.”   
“Of course I am. Oh, look, your cat’s back.”   
Luci was indeed trotting towards them, red cloth in his mouth.   
Pendergast picked him up, and put him in Bean’s bag. She took out the red fabric, which turned out to be a hooded cloak, and put it on.

“You’re ready now.” Pendergast said, before smiling up at her. “I love you.”   
“I love you too—whoa!” Ribbons lurched forward as Pendergast hit the horse’s flank.   
“Don’t ask for directions if you get lost!” Pendergast called as Ribbons galloped away.   
“That’s not the way to Caer Griffiths…” Odval muttered, walking out of the shadows.

“Why would she be going to Caer Griffiths?” Pendergast asked, genuinely caught off-guard.   
Odval blinked at him. “Why wouldn’t she? She’s clearly still upset about this insane marriage plan of the king’s—why wouldn’t you send her to safety?”   
“She’s going to find a way to stop it.” Pendergast said. “…besides, it’s safer here for her than there.”

“It’s been years, Pendergast.” Odval laid a hand on Pendergast’s shoulder. “Surely they wouldn’t…”   
“Why wouldn’t they?” Pendergast interrupted, though he didn’t push Odval away. “…I said she should run to Kirschen. She said she wouldn’t without me. I… Dreamland is… you and the king have both done so much for me. I can’t just throw that away.”   
Odval nodded slowly. “Who said that? About cowardice?”

“You did, actually. When I was twelve and told you I wanted to be a knight.”   
“Oh yes… when you were telling me that you were brave enough to engage in fisticuffs with your idiot brother, and this was an adequate qualification for you to be a knight of the king.” Odval chuckled. “For the record, I understand why you didn’t source the quote in front of the princess. We’re not exactly on the best terms.”   
“I thought you were past that? You were helpful this morning, thank you.”

“I didn’t do it for her.” Odval huffed. “But… I suppose I can get along a bit better with her, now that we have someone in common.” He gave Pendergast’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as they watched Bean disappear into the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luci is basically Salem from the original Sabrina show now. 
> 
> ...though, admittedly, I keep picturing him as a Persian cat. It'd bother him SO MUCH. 
> 
> Happy holidays y'all.


	20. I'm not going to lie, I love this chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The joke is that pretty much every Grimm story involves people in the woods. There are indeed a couple (Hans My Hedgehog, the Iron stove, etc.) where someone demands to marry a princess for giving a king directions. Usually the kings aren't happy about it, but usually the forest dudes get their princess anyway. 
> 
> This is also coupled with the youngest son trope-- where the first two brothers are absolutely pants at everything, and so the youngest son gets the kingdom/girl/whatever. I decided, since everyone _knows_ the youngest son is going to get everything anyway, the older ones would do better to run off to the middle of the forest and try and get a princess, same as the laymen.

A few hours later, Ribbons crossed the Dreamland border in the forest. What would have just been evident from a line on a map was in fact obvious. There was a sign, and a long furrow in the ground like someone had drawn it with a sword.

Bean turned in her seat to look at the sign.   
‘You are now entering Dreamland. By order of King Zog, no princes, throne-chasers, adventurers, or other men looking to use Dreamland’s problems to help themselves.’   
Ribbons crossed the line as Bean mused, “I wonder what that’s about?”

A man immediately popped up out of the bushes. “Hi, do you need directions?”   
“What? Who are you?” Bean asked.   
“I’ll give you directions if you help me marry the princess.” The man shrugged.   
“…I don’t need directions that badly.” Bean said. “Oh, my God, this is why Pendergast warned me against asking for directions…”

The man looked worried. “Pendergast? He’s not… here, is he?”   
“Why would it matter if he was?” Luci asked, poking his head out of the bag.   
The man ran his tongue over his lips. “Pendergast… doesn’t have a high tolerance for men crossing the border and… well, you get it. It’s standard adventuring—you do something, you get a princess. Pendergast usually says things like, ‘strangers in the woods can’t just marry the princess because they decided to set up shop there and give people directions’.” The man scoffed. “Can you believe him?”

“Yeah, I can, actually.” Bean said.   
The man scowled. “Well, good luck getting any directions out of _me_!” With that, he disappeared into the bushes again.   
“Guys like that are a dime a dozen in here.” Elfo said.   
Bean and Luci both looked at him.   
“I’m guessing.” Elfo added. “’Cause-‘cause of the sign.”

“Whatever, we have the map Pendergast gave us.” Bean pulled her hood forward to cover her hair better. “And we’re not lost, we’re right on track.”

A few hours later, they still hadn’t hit the river Pendergast had mentioned. Ribbons continued plodding forward, and Bean was checking the map.   
“Okay, so if we came through here, we should be… here. Right?” She said.   
“I thought we were over here.” Elfo pointed to a different part of the map.

“We’re lost.” Luci commented. “There’s only one thing left to do if we want to get to the Bay of Trees somewhat soon.”   
“No…” Bean groaned. “This is literally my worst fear.”   
“Tough tits. If you want to marry your knight, you need to summon the horny princes.” Luci said.

Bean sighed, before taking a deep breath and cupping her hands around her mouth. “Hey! I’m lost, and I need directions!”   
“Directions?” A voice said from above them.   
“I can give you directions!” A voice said from their left.   
“I can get you anywhere!” Someone called from the left.

“Leave it to me!” Someone begged from the front.   
“I’m the best navigator in these woods!” Someone else called from behind them.   
More and more voices began to chime in. “Me!” “Pick me!” “I know where to go!” “I’ve spent more time cursed in these woods than not!”   
Men began appearing from the underbrush, from the trees, from underneath Ribbons (who kicked that particular man in the face for startling her). They pressed forward, surrounding Ribbons, still clamoring.

“Stop, stop, stop!” Bean called. “Jesus, one at a time! Also, I’m not helping any of you marry Princess Tiabeanie.”   
“Would you help us marry other princesses?” Someone asked.   
“I don’t _know_ any other princesses. I’m from Dreamland.” Bean replied.   
The men conferred between themselves for a moment.

“_Pendergast_ would help her.” Luci pointed out. “Is Pendergast really better than you guys?”   
“Then Pendergast is a fool.” Someone snapped, and they all nodded. “Besides, he’s not better than us just because he doesn’t live in the woods and he has an actual, stable job!”   
“Aren’t half of you princes or something?” Elfo asked.

“We’re disowned because we’re not the third sons.” Someone else pointed out. “We don’t get the kingdoms, we just kind of wander off and do the wrong stuff, so _he_ can do the right stuff.”   
“So… are you going to help us so you can stick it to Pen?” Bean asked.   
Everyone was suddenly staring at her.

“Pen?” One of the disowned princes asked.   
“…dergast?” Bean finished awkwardly.   
“You know him.” Someone said. “You can talk him into letting us into the kingdom!”   
Bean laughed awkwardly. “That’s… not happening until you guys can act normal.”

“We are acting normal! These are fairytale rules!” Someone snapped.   
“Lemme handle this.” Luci said. “Hey, fuck nuts—you don’t want to marry Princess Tiabeanie. She killed the last suitors she had—and they actually had a kingdom. She’s currently slated to marry Hans—a soldier who was kidnapped by the devil for seven years. You can’t compete with that.”

“We’re not trying to.” One of the princes huffed. “We miss _beds_.”   
“And women!”   
“And alcohol!”   
“And baths!”   
“Wow, this got deeply sad really quickly.” Bean muttered.

“We want to abandon our posts and go into town, but whenever we cross the border, Pendergast is waiting on the other side.” Someone whined.   
“To be fair, there are other towns.” Bean pointed out. “We, for example, are going to the Bay of Trees. Do you guys want to come?”   
“Don’t invite these weirdos!” Elfo hissed. “They’re _weird_.”

“They are looking at you kind of hungrily.” Luci agreed. “It must be hard when the first woman you’ve seen in months is fucking Pendergast, not you guys, and you force yourselves to be straight so you can’t have forest sex.”   
The princes immediately started yelling about how it wasn’t _fair_ that she was having sex with Pendergast and not them. Bean passed a hand over her eyes. “_Thanks_, Luci.”

“No problem.” Luci gave a yawn. “Look. It’s a sea of Elfos!”   
“Nice.” Elfo snapped. “Real mature.”   
Bean gave a whistle. “_Listen_. I need to get to the Bay of Trees, and you guys can either piss off, or help. What’s it going to be?”

“Will you convince Pendergast to let us into Dreamland?” A prince asked.   
“Will you stop bothering the princess?” Bean shot back.   
The princes muttered among themselves, before nodding.   
“We shall lead you to the Bay of Trees.” One said.

And thus, their band rode on through the night—well, really, most of the princes walked, and the cursed ones or animal ones didn’t come at all—until they reached the Bay. Across the bay, the lights of a small town twinkled.   
“Cool, cool, cool. Uh… go on, I guess?” Bean gestured towards the assembled princes, who immediately charged into the bay and began to swim across.   
“…I mean, I kind of expected them to go around, like us.” Bean pointed out.

“Yeah, it’s really not that far.” Luci agreed.   
They reached the town, and Bean slid off of Ribbons, before helping Elfo. Then she hit Ribbons’ flank the way that Pendergast had. “Okay, girl, off you go.”   
Ribbons wasted no time in trotting off.

The princes were beginning to appear out of the lake, which was causing no small amount of consternation from the townfolk.   
“Hi, I need a boat—” Bean tried to say to someone, before they were distracted by a prince running by. He’d apparently stripped off all his clothes. The townsperson cursed under their breath, and began chasing after said prince.

“Could you tell me where to find a boat?” Bean asked another townsperson.   
“We’re under attack!” They called back.   
“O-kay… really regret leading them here now…” Bean muttered.   
“Who could have foreseen that a bunch of horny dudes living in the forest would go hogwild once they reached civilization?” Luci asked.

“_Please_ stop calling them horny.” Bean muttered.   
A group of princes ran right past them to a building that had women sitting on the rails and calling. Given their heavy makeup and low cut gowns, Bean was going to bet that those were prostitutes.   
“You’re right, they’re all incredibly chaste.” Luci scoffed.

That was when someone grabbed Bean from behind.   
She immediately dropped down and got Pendergast’s knife from her boot, though her hood came off.   
She whirled to face a blonde woman holding a sword. “Who are you?”   
The blonde woman looked deeply annoyed. “I’m the person who’s going to stop your _invasion_.”

“Invasion?” Bean asked, blinking rapidly. “This isn’t an invasion.”   
The woman pointed to the chaos. “What’s this, if not a host?”   
“They’re just a bunch of dudes I found in the forest!” Bean said.

The blond woman sighed. “And you led them _here_?”   
“To be fair, we were really lost, and we needed to get here ourselves.” Luci piped up from Bean’s bag.   
Bean nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah!”   
The blond woman sighed again. “Well, I might as well hear you out. I’m Magnhild Einarsdottir, welcome to Trærbukt.”   
The moon chose that moment to come out from behind a cloud, hitting Bean’s hair.   
Magnhild raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, welcome to Trærbukt, _Princess_.”


	21. Guess who can't let go of her OCs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations at the end

“How do you know who I am?” Bean asked.   
Magnhild laughed. “My brother? Sven Einarson? You dumped him out a hole?”   
“Oh… that was your brother?” Bean forced a laugh. “Funny story…”

Magnhild began cackling. “Oh, I know it is. He came back saying things like, ‘oh, I was totally going to sleep with her but then she tricked me into drinking dead squirrel water—told me it was the elixir of life—and then she pushed me down a hole’. Ha ha—I never laughed so hard in all my life.”   
“So you’re not mad?” Bean asked.   
“Eh… I’m more angry about the host of random men you unleashed on my town.” Magnhild said. “Also, Sven is _deeply_ furious with you.”   
“Right, right, I respect the random men thing, I’m seeing why Pendergast didn’t want them in Dreamland.” Bean agreed.

Magnhild led her inside a tavern. “So, what brings you to Trærbukt? …pull your hood up, a lot of men agree with Sven that you need to be taught a lesson.”   
Bean acquiesced. “I need to take a ship through the saga lands down to the… what was it, Luci?”   
“We need to get to the folk song lands and back to Dreamland.” Luci said, poking his head out of the bag.

“I can easily take you there. Ah, Signe, to øl takk.” She said this last part to a passing woman, who nodded. Magnhild then sat down at a small table in the back with Bean.   
Signe walked by and placed two beers in front of them.   
“So, on a scale of 1-10, how mad is your brother?” Bean said worriedly as Signe walked away.

Magnhild tapped her finger on the tabletop thoughtfully. “Mad enough that… look, there are flaws in everyone, and Sven’s… Sven is a lot like our father, Einar. He won’t admit it, but he is. He was furious that he was bested by an Angle woman, and a lot of men have been… finding it funny for different reasons than me. He needs to get his pride back. Do you trust me?”

“What choice do I have?” Bean smiled awkwardly.   
Manghild folded her hands under her chin. “Good. My brother… speaks a lot in anger. I was expecting you to be very different than you turned out to be, but even if you hadn’t… it never would have gotten as bad as he said. I need you to know this.”   
“I don’t know what he said, so I guess?” Bean replied.

Magnhild nodded slowly. “Good, good… it’s been weighing on my conscience, especially since I… may have promised to help him. If it ever came down to it.”   
Bean blinked rapidly. “Uh…”   
“But, it’s not going to!” Magnhild said hurriedly. “Because he’s not going to know you’re here!”

“Where is he, anyway?” Elfo asked, looking around.   
Magnhild sighed. “He’s off raiding, I’ve been more or less left in charge. When I’m gone, it’ll be Signe.”   
“And you’re sure she won’t rat me out?” Bean asked.   
“Oh no, she and I are both in total agreement behind Sven’s back.” Magnhild sipped her beer. “Drink up, it’s good.”

Bean took a sip of her beer.   
“We think Sven got what he deserved for declaring himself king, and he’s lucky he didn’t actually have sex with you or Signe would have thrown him out of their house.”   
“Wait, he’s _married_? I didn’t know that at the time!” Bean said hurriedly, narrowly avoiding spitting beer all over Magnhild.   
“Oh, yes. Signe is very much against revenge on you partially because of that. You can’t really stay married to a monster.” Magnhild shrugged.

Bean peered around Magnhild to see Signe at the bar, cleaning glasses. “She looks like she could snap me in half.”   
“Probably.” Magnhild agreed.   
“Why doesn’t Sven bring _her_ raiding and pillaging?” Luci asked.

“That’s not Signe’s style. She’s happy to throw out a rogue drunk—notice your invasion force isn’t here—but she’s a homebody.” Magnhild shrugged. “Not like me, when do you want to go?”   
“Wait, we haven’t discussed payment.” Bean said.  
Magnhild waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about that. Think of it as me alleviating my conscience. …but, there is an option, if that doesn’t satisfy you.”

“Okay…” Bean said. “I mean, you’re super hot and all, but I’ve kind of got a boyf—”   
“I’m not going to ask you to pay in your body, princess.”   
“Okay, cool cool cool. I mean, I would, but again, boyfriend.”

Magnhild raised an eyebrow. “I have a lover myself. You’re not my type, I prefer redheads.”   
Bean took a swig of beer. “So what’s your idea?”   
“Well… I was planning on sailing through the Yensid Strait instead of going North to the saga-lands to go East. It’s faster. But… the Yensid Strait is… unpredictable.”   
“How so?” Bean asked.   
Magnhild shrugged. “I haven’t stepped foot on the land in quite some time, mind, but the waters are infested with bloodthirsty monsters.”

“Ooh, sharks?” Luci asked.   
“Worse. Copyright lawyers.” Magnhild grimaced. “But that’s the least of our problems. Listen, princess, my payment will be, if your clothes _mysteriously_ get replaced with a glittery silk dress, I want the dress.”   
“Uh… what happens to my normal clothes?” Bean asked, looking down at them.   
“I have no idea.” Magnhild said cheerfully. “Obviously, I’m not going to rip it off of you. But silk fetches a high price, and I have reason to believe that it might happen.”

“…how?” Elfo asked.   
“Oh, you’ll see.” Magnhild grinned. “We have a deal, princess?”   
“Sure. When do we sail?” Bean asked.   
Magnhild raised a finger for her to wait. She twisted in her seat and yelled to the bar, “Vi har en job! Klar skipet! Vi seiler så snart som mulig!” Then she twisted further towards Signe, and called, “Beklager å overlate dette til deg. Har du noe imot å ta ansvar?”   
Signe shrugged. “Det går bra. Kom tilbake snart, og vær trygg. Broren din vil bli opprørt hvis du dør.”   
“Alltid jokeren…” Magnhild muttered to herself, smiling. Then she switched back to English. “We’re good to go.”

Bean glanced at Luci. “Any idea what they were saying?”   
“Boring stuff. Throwing you into the lake, and all that.” Luci yawned. “Hanging Elfo up by his ears, you know the drill.”   
Magnhild laughed. “I like your cat. We’ll be ready to go soon, so come with me.”

Bean followed her to the harbor. It wasn’t _really_ a harbor, seeing as all the ships were on land, but it still served the same purpose. Magnhild’s ship was on the edge of the water, with sailors loading it up with provisions.   
Magnhild climbed up over the wheels, over the edge of the ship, then leaned over. “Coming?”   
Bean followed.

Elfo walked up the ramp that they were using for provisions.   
“When do we leave?” Bean asked.   
Magnhild licked her finger and held it up, before yelling, “Skynd deg! Vinden er med oss!” The sailors began moving faster. “Soon enough—follow me.” Magnhild grumbled to Bean

Once again, Bean followed her, this time below deck. “This is the hull, it’s where we keep our food and hammocks or bedrolls. I’m going to give you three one hammock, work it out among yourselves.”   
“Where do you sleep?” Elfo asked.   
“What a terrifying question, thank you. I sleep the next hammock over, so if any of you try anything, you’re getting thrown overboard.”

“Try anything _how_?” Luci asked.   
Magnhild glared at him. “We’ll be underway soon. How well can you swim, cat?”   
Bean forced a laugh. “He’s joking, right, Luci?”   
Magnhild laughed—more genuinely than Bean, at least. “Ah, yes, I forgot that your cat was a comedian.”

Magnhild returned to the upper deck, and Bean put her bag on the hammock Magnhild had indicated. Luci climbed out, and stretched. “Well, we’re gonna be here for a while.”   
There was shouting on deck, the sound of wood being moved, and then Bean nearly fell over because it felt like the ship had been given a shove.   
“What was that?” Elfo asked.

“_That_ was the ship entering the water, idiot.” Luci snarked. “What, you want me to explain what’s downstairs, too?”   
“Sure, if you’re offering.” Elfo replied.   
Luci sighed. “Why do I bother… look, below us is the rowing area, for if there’s no wind in the sails. Probably a drum to keep everyone on beat.”

“Ohhh…” Elfo said.   
“Well, should we get some sleep?” Bean asked. “It’s getting late.”   
“…nah, I want to see the deck as we’re underway.” Luci replied.   
“Elfo, can you carry him? I’ve been doing it all day.” Bean said.   
“Oh, sure!” Elfo said, before trying to tip Luci out of the hammock. Luci settled his weight, and cackled.

Bean shook her head, and went to the top deck. The sun was behind the mountains by this point, and the stars were reflected in the water. It was almost perfect. She leaned on the side of the boat, hand under her chin, and looked up at the sky, the moon nearly out, and the stars stretched out for miles like a glittering carpet.

“Thinking about your man?” Magnhild asked behind her.   
Bean glanced back. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.” Magnhild shrugged. “New love?”   
“Yeah.”   
“Treasure it.”   
“I do. That’s why I’m here—if I don’t find a way to fix this, I’m going to marry this _awful man_ instead of my Pen.”

“And what’ll you do if it doesn’t work?” Magnhild asked, intrigued.   
“Stab him in the throat and run away with Pen.” Bean muttered.   
Magnhild grinned. “I like this idea. What’re you hoping to find?”

“A man who can out-fiddle him. …long story.” Bean sighed.   
“Well, we’re heading to Georgia… there’s no one better than Levan “Vanya” Tsereteli.” Magnhild said. “His fiddle’s made of gold, and _oh_, the sound it makes…”   
“That sounds perfect!” Bean said quickly. “Do you know where to find him?”

“He’s not that hard to find.” Magnhild shrugged. “You’ll know him by the music.”   
“Well… what does it sound like, then?” Bean asked.   
Magnhild paused for a moment. “It sounds like… coming home after a long voyage, and seeing your lover, and running to them. And everything else melts away. It sounds like… when you first take a breath of the sea air and your heart knows it’s _right_. It sounds like the taste of your favorite, familiar cooking.”

“Those aren’t sounds.” Bean pointed out.   
Magnhild shrugged. “Best way to describe it. Cheer up. If we’re lucky and the wind holds, we’ll be there soon.”   
Bean grimaced. “Lucky indeed…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are translations for my gratuituous (and Google translated) Norwegian for Magnhild. 
> 
> Ah, Signe, to øl takk -- Ah, Signe, two beers, please. 
> 
> Vi har en job! Klar skipet! Vi seiler så snart som mulig -- We have a job! Ready the ship! We sail as soon as possible. 
> 
> Beklager å overlate dette til deg. Har du noe imot å ta ansvar? -- Sorry to leave this to you. Do you mind taking charge?
> 
> Det går bra. Kom tilbake snart, og vær trygg. Broren din vil bli opprørt hvis du dør. -- It’s fine. Come back soon, and stay safe. Your brother will be upset if you die. 
> 
> Alltid jokeren… -- Always the joker…
> 
> Skynd deg! Vinden er med oss! -- Hurry up! The wind’s with us!


	22. An Average Day in the Life of Pendergast

Pendergast was genuinely considering murder. He didn’t _like_ murder, murder meant an unequal fight that definitely didn’t work with his moral code but… well, he said he’d kill for her. It’d be easy; lead Hans up to the battlements, push him off, let the sea deal with him.

Admittedly, it wasn’t a perfect plan, as the Jester tended to survive similar falls, but still. It combined two of his greatest adversaries, the sea and this fucker who showed up out of nowhere. It was fun to fantasize about, even if he couldn’t do anything yet. Also, it kept him from thinking too hard about the fact that the woman he loved was the living personification of the sea.

The unpredictability, the strength, the lack of bias… these were all things that he loved about her and hated about the sea. The sea was dangerous, but she was… fun. He trusted her. …and now he was thinking about it, fuck. It was surely some grand irony that she was everything he loved and everything he distrusted deeply rolled into one being. And it was distrust—he feared small spaces, he went out of his way to avoid his father, but he didn’t fear the sea. Especially since now he knew it was her.

He leaned back at his desk, entertaining the idea that if he _did_ throw Hans into the water, maybe the sea would dash him upon the rocks and claim his body so that he’d never come back with the Devil refilling his body with his soul whenever it escaped. Maybe the sea would help him if it really was tied to Bean in such a way— she wanted him gone too, right? But he couldn’t trust the sea. It all came back to that.

He pushed himself away from his desk, and went to start his afternoon rounds. Everything was so quiet with her gone, it was so easy to get lost in his thoughts… and then he bumped straight into Zog.   
“Sorry, sir.” Pendergast grimaced. “My fault, I was thinking…”   
“Ah, it’s fine. It’s just you, right?” Zog smiled. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“The sea.” Pendergast said simply.   
Zog nodded. “It’s great, innit? My family, we’ve always felt this pull to it… I can’t explain it.”   
“Like it’s a part of you.” Pendergast answered.   
Zog brightened. “Yeah, you always get it.”

Pendergast paused, considering his words. Zog liked him, Zog was also in a good mood.   
“Sir… I also wanted to talk to you about Princess Tiabeanie…” Pendergast said carefully.   
“Beanie? What’s wrong? What’d she do now?” Zog groaned.   
“I just… wanted to ask you to reconsider the fact that she needs to be married immediately…”

Zog’s face immediately changed. “I don’t need you challenging me, Pendergast.”   
Pendergast stiffened. “I just want her to be happy.”   
“You think I don’t?!” Zog demanded. “This is all to make Bean happy, and I don’t need you telling me how to do that!”   
Zog turned on his heel and stomped off.

Pendergast blinked, trying to process what he’d just seen. Zog was temperamental, but he never changed _that_ quickly. He was too tired to. And when he got truly angry, fists started flying—the difference between him and Pendergast’s father being that you were supposed to hit back, or at least block to defend yourself. At the very least, Zog would stay to argue his point, rage building until he tired himself out. This was… odd. Very odd. Almost like Zog wouldn’t actually marry his favorite child to an absolute nightmare of a man.

Whatever, Pendergast had more patrols to do. The castle was clean, and now it was time for the forest. He saddled up Carrots, and headed in. God willing, all of them were normal and hadn’t even realized Bean was there three days ago when she’d passed through.

This was not the case. There were a _lot_ of drunk men over on the Dreamland side of the border, and he spent time dragging them back to the neutral ground in the woods.   
“Hey, she said she’d talk to you about letting us into Dreamland…” One man said to him, waking up as Pendergast dragged him by his arms.   
“Not happening as long as you’ve all made it your life’s mission to harass the princess, we’ve been over this.” Pendergast huffed. Why couldn’t their forest just straight up eat people like that one he’d heard about to the North?

“We’re not gonna bother the princess! She’s getting _married_.” The man protested. “We didn’t even bother your girlfriend, we helped her.”   
Pendergast could feel a headache coming on. “And how exactly did you _help_ her?”   
“We showed her the way to Tray… Trer…”   
“The Bay of Trees.” Pendergast supplied, because watching this man stumble through the Norse name was going to take all day.

“Yeah. There.” The man nodded. “They have whores there. And alcohol. And _beds_.”   
“How wonderful for them. You know you don’t _have_ to live in the woods like animals, right? You just can’t enter Dreamland.”   
“Whyyyy…”   
“Because I have enough on my plate without kicking your ass every day and hovering around the princess at any given moment to fend off the horde.” Pendergast unceremoniously dropped the man—presumably a prince, but really just a dirty drunk man for now—on the other side of the border.

“Yeah, your girlfriend prolly wouldn’t like that.” The dirty man agreed. “She seems nice. Why’s she with you?”   
“That I don’t know.” Pendergast replied. “But if you’re leading up to, ‘she should be with me instead’, that would be an even more mysterious turn of events.”

“I’m a prince of Aarne!” The dirty man replied. “My father is a luck-child! My youngest brother’s gonna be a king one day!”   
“I own a bed.” Pendergast shrugged. “And I have a job.”   
The dirty man shakily pointed at him. “You win this round, knight.”   
“Tell your idiot friends to stay on your side of the line, or I really will kick your asses, hungover or not.”

“S’not honorable to hurt an unarmed man…” The prince of Aarne whined. “Thought you were honorable…”   
“And I thought you were smarter than to provoke direct confrontation with me.” Pendergast shrugged. “Your move, dirty man in the woods.”

“Prince! I’m a _prince_!”   
Pendergast made a dismissive gesture, then remounted Carrots to continue the rest of the patrol. The idiots tended to stay around the chokepoints, but the ones who managed to set up actual camps where more… cunning. They wouldn’t cross the border that often except to buy goods to maintain their camps and act like civilized members of society, but Pendergast was more suspicious of them than the idiots. They were biding their time until a crisis, then they’d swoop into the kingdom and make his paperwork ten times harder.

Of course, they were all lying low now, as usual. Pendergast respected that. All evidence of poaching was also neatly squared away. Pendergast respected that even more. It was about time to head home, so he turned Carrots around. He was halfway out of the woods when he suddenly ran across a human figure. Thinking it was a drunk prince he’d missed, he slowed. “Ho there.”

The figure looked up, revealing an old woman. “’Ho there’? Me?”   
Pendergast dismounted. “…sorry. Used to dealing with less savory types.”   
Her eyes twinkled with mirth. “I’ve never been considered a savory type myself until now.”   
“Is there anything I can help you with?” Pendergast asked, because that was a hard thing to reply to.

She sat down on a nearby rock. “My name’s Adelaide, Della for short. What’s yours?”   
“I am Sir Pendergast, of the Knights of the Zog table.” He replied.   
Della cocked her head. “I once knew a knight named Pendergast. Thomas Pendergast.”

“That was my grandfather.”   
“Was it? It feels like only yesterday we…” She trailed off, before smiling at him. “So, you’re Lynette’s boy? You look like your father.”   
Pendergast flinched. “You knew my parents?”   
“Oh, I knew her. I checked in on him. …did she really give you her maiden name as your forename? Pendergast Griffiths?” She made a face of distaste.

Pendergast sat down next to her. “Actually, Pendergast Llewellyn Griffiths.”   
She looked at him sharply. “Names have power, boy. Don’t forget that.”   
“What, are you going to curse me? I’m already cursed.” Pendergast shrugged. “The woman I love is going to marry a monster.”

Della paused. “You know, this is usually the part in the tale where you offer me help.”   
“I already did, what can I do?” Pendergast asked.   
“Do you have any food? I’m famished.”

“Sure.” As always, there were apples in the saddlebag. He handed a few to Della, then fed the last to Carrots.   
Della took a bite. “Mm, sweet apples… where did you get these?”   
“My cousin David sends me a few every month from the orchard my mother planted at Caer Griffiths. He knows I love them.” Pendergast shrugged.

Della cradled the rest of her apples in her lap. “Oh… I gave Lynette the apple saplings as a wedding gift. I knew she’d have a craving for them when the time came… just as your love likely will.”   
“Excuse me?” Pendergast said, because even though this woman definitely knew his mother, that was too close to his personal life.   
Della winked. “They’re good apples, Pendergast Llewellyn Griffiths. Haven’t you noticed they take longer to rot than most apples? That they’re sweeter? Crisper? They’re Fae food.”

Pendergast jerked back. “Wh… no, I’ve been eating these for years, and they’ve never… done anything to me.”   
“Nothing bad.” Della shrugged. “They’ve been grown in your world. They helped protect you and your brother, kept you from getting sick as often as children.”   
“They didn’t protect Mother.” Pendergast snapped.

Della stilled. “No. No, they didn’t protect her. Or your sister. There are some things they can’t do, and I wish nothing more than I’d been there when…”   
“Who are you?” Pendergast asked sharply. “I’ve never met you before, yet you knew my mother so well.”   
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m your grandmother.” Della said.

Pendergast stared at her. “…and how did you give my mother Fae apples?”   
“Oh, those saplings were from my personal garden.” Della shrugged.   
“Then you’re…”   
“Yes.”   
“And I’m…?”   
“Yes.” Della nodded.

Pendergast stood up quickly, covering his mouth. “No. No, you’re lying. I’m human.”   
“I _can’t_ lie, boy.” Della stood up as well. “And you’re not, not fully. You’re a quarter Sidhe. I don’t know why you’re reacting like this, it’s not as though I’m a dearg-due or a beansidhe. I’m part of the Seelie court, when I choose to join it.”

“This is insane!” Pendergast huffed. “I’m not… why now? Why _leave_ me with Arwel ap Maredudd for _years_ and now, when everything’s almost fine?”   
“You said you were cursed, and your true love’s marrying another man.”   
“I never said true love.” Pendergast retorted, though he was blushing.

Della took another bite of the apple. “I know how these stories work, boy. This sort of meeting does not happen to help you save a _fling_.”   
“She has a plan, too.” Pendergast added. “She’s going to find a man to outfiddle Hans.”   
“Well, in case her plan doesn’t work… come find me in the forest. I’m sure you’ll find the way, Pendergast Llewellyn Griffiths.” Della gave him a smile, before her teeth became sharper, as well as the tips of her fingers, her facial structure, and her ears. Her skin smoothed, and her gray hair melted back into golden blonde. She waved goodbye, the apples still gathered in her skirt, before she disappeared into the forest. There was no evidence that she’d ever been there.   
“Well, that was deeply weird.” Pendergast said to Carrots, who continued to not care, being as he was a horse.


	23. Magnhild fucked Ariel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this were a movie, the part where they're belowdecks being thrown around would be there only so it could be made into a themepark ride.

Bean woke up to Magnhild shaking her, and subsequently toppled out of her hammock, dragging Luci and Elfo with her.   
“Ow…” Bean groaned.   
From what she could see of Magnhild (her boots), she did not seem impressed.

“Come on, princess. We’re approaching the edge of the world—you’re going to want to see this.”   
Bean stood and followed her, Elfo and Luci in tow as always.   
The ship had been propelled by an almost supernatural wind. Time and again, Magnhild had been checking her charts against the few landmarks they’d passed, and the positions of the stars.

“How do you know we’re already there?” Bean asked.   
Magnhild looked unamused. “There’s the cliffs of the edge to our starboard, way off to the edge.” She stopped to let Elfo and Luci go to the deck, then pushed Bean up against the wall. “I will only ask this once—are you a witch?”   
“What? No. Why?” Bean demanded, struggling. Magnhild shut the hatch to the hull, effectively locking Elfo and Luci out. The only light was from the lantern hanging on a hook nearby. It swayed with the ship, casting an eerie light over the two women.

Magnhild narrowed her eyes. “Do you know, not once has the wind not been fully behind us? Not once. That never happens.”   
“Uh…” Bean frowned. “So the wind… hasn’t been with us? I’m confused.”   
Magnhild growled, pressing harder, “The wind has always filled our sails completely. The ship has been moving faster than ever, and _still_, it seems as if… the Earth itself has… _folded_ to hasten our journey.”

“What?” Bean said. “That’s crazy.”   
Magnhild watched her carefully. “How long was your trip from Dreamland to Trærbukt, princess?”   
“Uh… a couple hours on horseback, why? It was the same day, I know that much.”   
“Because no horse could get between Dreamland and Trærbukt in a day but Sleipnir!”   
“I’m sorry Ribbons is better than your horse but—”   
“Sleipnir is a mythical, eight-legged horse, princess!” Magnhild hissed. “Your horse seems to be _normal_. You moved with a host, that must have slowed you considerably, but you not only reached Trærbukt the same day, but before nightfall. It seems a lot like once again, the earth folded beneath you to ease your passage. So if you’re not a witch, what are you?”

“…I don’t really know.” Bean admitted. “I know if I put on a crown, I become this crazy… sea monster person.”   
Magnhild reached for a knife at her belt. “Why should I not slit your throat and throw you overboard right now?”   
“Whoa, whoa, that escalated quickly!” Bean said. “I thought we were kinda friends! And it’s not like I’ve done anything bad!”  
“…no. No, you haven’t.” Magnhild pulled back, and Bean gingerly rubbed her collarbone. “But if you try anything, princess, you’ll be overboard before you know it.”   
“You keep threatening me, but I still haven’t _done_ anything!” Bean hissed.

Magnhild shrugged. “Get the hatch door, I’ve got to put out the lantern—“ As she blew out the flame, the ship _tilted_, sending both women flying to the back of the room.   
“What’s going on?” Bean demanded.   
“We’re going over—hang on!” Magnhild hissed. “The ship will right itself, it always does!”   
“There’s no _trick_ to it?” Bean shot back, at the ship jolted again.

“The trick is, hit the first level, let the ship breathe…” Magnhild paused. “The fucking wind might make us go too fast…”   
“No, that’s—that’s a luck thing.” Bean replied. “Luci said I’m a luck-child.”   
Magnhild smiled in the dark. “Well, hopefully that will be enough to save us—” She was cut off by the ship going over again. Both women went flying in the air, pushed back by the gravity of the ship itself going over.

Bean was tossed into the hammocks, getting caught like a fly in a web, whereas Magnhild was thrown around like a pinball.   
“Agh, this is why I hate being below decks when this happens!” Magnhild hissed.   
“Wouldn’t they fall off the ship otherwise?” Bean asked. The ship began to right itself, and she realized that she was more or less upside down as Magnhild began to slide uncontrollably.

“No, everyone above decks gets a rope around the waist.” Magnhild said as she slid past Bean. Bean couldn’t really see in the dark, but she guessed that Magnhild was unamused. “Don’t worry about your cat and elf.”   
“Um… how many more drops are there?” Bean asked, struggling.   
“Just one.” Magnhild said, before the ship lurched only slightly. This was more of a gentle incline than anything else.

Bean paused for a while, and the ship leveled out, swaying slightly. “Not cool, Magnhild.” Magnhild stood up in the dark, fumbling for a match, and then lighting the lantern again. “Ooof.”   
“Yeah, it’s bad.” Bean managed to free a hand, but in doing so somehow got her left leg stuck at a weird angle.   
Magnhild sighed, and set the lantern down on a hook.”Hold still. I don’t want you to rip my hammocks.”

In a few minutes, Magnhild managed to free Bean.   
“That was fun, when can we do that again?” Bean asked.   
Magnhild glared at her. “That wasn’t fun.”   
“Yeah it was.” Bean replied, following her onto the deck. The wind returned as Bean got up there.

“Oh thank God you’re here.” A very wet Luci tried to move towards Bean, but was caught by the rope around his waist. “I was _drenched_ and _dangled_ and…”   
“Oh my God are we dead?” Elfo asked, sitting up on the deck and starting to untie himself.  
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. There’s another drop.” Magnhild said grimly.   
“When?” Elfo asked.   
“After the singing fades.” Magnhild replied.

“Singing?” Bean asked. “Wait, we have to sing?”   
“Don’t worry, if you can’t sing, your voice will be traded out with someone who can.” Magnhild said.   
“_What_?!” Bean said.   
“Yeah, you can’t just say that and stop talking!” Luci agreed.

Magnhild shrugged.   
“Captain, we’re approaching the coast!” A Viking called.   
On the wind, they could faintly hear people beginning to sing.   
“A ship!”   
“A ship!”   
“Where will it go, where would it take me?”   
“Like ships, passing in the night…!”

“Oh my God…” Bean muttered. “Compulsory singing?”   
“I don’t even think they realize it, to be honest.” Magnhild said.   
Bean moved to the railing of the ship to peer out at the land. Something surged out of the water, trying to bite at her, and she jumped back. The man in the suit landed on the deck, glaring around at everyone.

“I don’t care if that preschool painted that picture themselves, they cannot have a picture of Mickey Mouse up! Shut it down!” He screamed, before jumping back into the water with a briefcase in tow.  
“…what?” Bean said.   
“Copyright lawyer. Bloodthirsty fuckers.” Magnhild shrugged. “Glad that one jumped back on his own, it took us _forever_ to get the last one out after he got below decks. They’re amphibious, you know.”

“I need a drink.” Bean rubbed her head in agitation. “Wait, what’s that music…?”   
“Welcome to the yensiD strait/ where princesses rule the lands/ their hostility is why we won’t beach on the sand…” Magnhild sang. It was not the voice that she had had before—apparently she’d been speaking from personal experience.  
“Oh my God they infected her, run!” Luci hissed at Bean.

“I’m scared of getting married/ not even because of the groom/ I just don’t want to be forever trapped in my room!” Bean sang back. Her voice was also different, but noticeably more so.   
“Oh my _fucking_ God.” Luci corrected himself. The Vikings began to join in.

“Why are you not singing?” Luci asked Elfo, who looked incredibly tired.   
“Because I spent my entire life joining in on the compulsory sing-alongs. This is _exactly_ why I left Elfwood, by the way.” Elfo sighed, rubbing his temples. “This is a ship of nightmares. Why aren’t you singing?”

Luci curled up as best he could with a rope around his waist. “I guess I still got enough demon in me to be able to resist lesser magic.”   
“Lesser magic?” Elfo frowned in concentration.   
Luci immediately got up and stretched. “Yeah, lesser magic. There are different hierarchies and levels of magic. For example, if I, before I was a cat, tried to cast magic on Bean, it wouldn’t work, because her magic is incredibly strong. If whatever Fae ancestor Pendergast had tried to cast magic on me though, it’d go through, because she’d be stronger than me. It’s not that hard.”

Elfo sat down next to him. “Explain it to me.”   
Bean was now as far as the rope would take her, which was somehow on part of the mast. Idly, Luci hoped she didn’t get keelhauled if she fell off the ship.   
“He once told me that brav’ry is facing your fear/ but how can I face them if they’re so freaking _real_?” Bean belted out.

“Did she just rhyme ‘fear’ with ‘real’?” Elfo squinted up at her.   
“Yeah. I think that’s the bridge or the chorus or something. I don’t know music stuff.” Luci yawned.   
When Elfo and Luci next looked, Bean was off the mast near the prow of the boat, arms spread wide as she faced the rest of the ship.

Somehow, _miraculously_, over the course of the song, her clothes had transformed to something pretty similar to her wedding dress, if actually teal like her shirt. The poofy sleeves on her shoulders were the same, as was the flare of the ballgown style skirt. However, this dress was much more detailed—there was extensive embroidery of a floral pattern on top of the skirt, complete with lace overlaid. The bottom swirled off and away from the underskirt, and the bodice had similar swirls. And there were tiny gemstones positively _dripping_ from the entire thing. They were the centers of the embroidered flowers, surrounded by lace petals. They were embedded into the swirls of the bodice and the skirt. They were everywhere.

“Welp, looks like Magnhild’s getting paid.” Luci commented. “Oh, and there goes the hair.”   
They both watched as a sea breeze _somehow_ teased her hair into a gentle chignon instead of making it a mess. A seagull dropped a tiara right on her head, perfectly in line with the hair.   
“How is that updo staying up…?” Elfo muttered.   
“I’m guessing her hair is so tangled by this point that the structure more or less supports itself like that.”

Bean finished singing, then said in her regular voice, “What in the _shitting hell_ just happened?”   
“I feel like I adequately warned you.” Magnhild pointed out.   
“No, you absolutely did not!” Bean growled.   
Magnhild shrugged again. “Personally, I thought your song about how you’re terrified of marriage because of how much control a man would have over you, but that you still believe in love, and you still believe in _your_ man, was inspiring.”

The Vikings all nodded.   
“When we return to Trærbukt, I will return with a gift for my wife and tell her how much I appreciate her.” The biggest, burliest Viking said in thickly accented English. “Your love for your man _inspired_ me to remember how much I love my Brunhilde.”

The Vikings all clapped.   
“And you saved Tryggve’s marriage!” Magnhild added.   
“How did you know this would happen, anyway?” Elfo asked.   
“Yeah, you seem to know an awful lot about the princesses for someone who’s banned from their land.” Luci added. “How’d you get banned in the first place?”

“…I may have had sex with one of the princesses. And her husband _may_ have caught us in bed. …and I may have stolen some of her jewelry as I jumped out the window.” Magnhild admitted. “In my defense, I was under the impression that thieves with a heart of gold were in high demand among the princesses.”   
“I thought _I_ was the thief with the heart of gold after I robbed Bee-Baw’s corpse.” Bean muttered.

“How the _fuck_ are you with Pendergast ‘The Law Comes Before my Own Happiness’ Griffiths?” Luci asked.  
Bean was unable to retort that because the ship began to tip again, going over an enormous waterfall that no one could see the bottom of.   
“This is way worse than the other two!” Elfo screamed.   
Magnhild laughed, hair coming out of its careful braid as seawater, gravity, and the fact that she was currently horizontal on the deck (which, to be fair, was completely vertical) conspired against her. “See you all on the other side!”

Bean, Luci and Elfo all screamed as they plunged down and down, a black void suddenly rising up to meet them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, where to begin? 
> 
> Magnhild saying that Bean has a tendency to 'fold' land around her is because they're small episode increments and Bean needs to get where she's going without wasting time showing the journey. Once again, like the luck child thing explaining the plot armor, it's me assigning eldritch powers to show convenience. But it is something that I also touched on very, very briefly in tVoN. 
> 
> Their song is meant to be to the tune of 'I Need to Know' from Barbie: the Island Princess. It is incredibly Disney for a movie not actually made by Disney. (Who owns Mattel these days anyway?) Bean's dress is inspired by a conversation with taffee23, who told me exactly how to do it, and looking at the... well, the best way to describe it is the sparkly Disney princess lineups from 2013. The ones with Merida where she looked different and it was a whole controversy? The ones where everyone looks like they're the shiny pokemon versions of themselves? And the fact that sometimes there's just a pretty new dress when the princess next shows up in the movie. (Cinderella gets one, when she's going to the ball. Aurora gets one, when her fairy godemothers give her one too. Belle gets one, even though the montage is with the Beast. Tiana gets one when she turns back into a human. Ariel gets one, when she's pretending to be a human.) 
> 
> The magical hierarchy goes like this:   
Old Gods   
Demigods or things of a godlike nature (Satan)   
The Fae   
Greater Demons   
Witches (pact with Greater Demons or the Devil)   
Lesser Demons (like Luci)   
Background magical effects like Elfo, the Hooker fairy, etc.


	24. Bean went down to Georgia

About a week later, Magnhild knocked on the door of the hatch, then threw down clothes into it a minute later.   
Bean, now dressed in something as close to her usual clothes as possible, exited before handing Magnhild the pretty dress.   
“In my defense, I didn’t know it would take the place of your more sensible clothes.” Magnhild shrugged.   
Bean sighed. “Fair enough. Where’s uh… what’s his name again?”

“Levan ‘Vanya’ Tsereteli. The ‘Vanya’ comes from a nickname he got years ago from a Russian friend.” Magnhild explained. “I heard him playing in the square earlier.”   
“Great, then let’s go.” Bean replied.   
Magnhild nodded, and led her off of the ship. The town of Batumi was large, and bustling as its port was much more widely used than the port of Dreamland.

Bean heard a strain of fiddle music, and looked up to see a man on top of a rooftop. “Magnhild, is that…?”   
Magnhild looked up. “Ah, no, that’s… he’s Russian. Ignore the fiddler on the roof, he’s from a different story than the one you want.”

They headed into the centre of the city, where you could spot Magnhild’s crew at different shops, trading and enjoying the city.   
“Hey, thanks for this.” Bean said, as they passed a group of Vikings cheering as Elfo downed a tankard of beer.   
“No problem.” Magnhild said.

“…should I get involved in that?” Bean asked, pointing at Elfo.   
“…nah. Surest way to get over a woman is through beer.” Magnhild said. “You shouldn’t stop him, and I’m not going to wait for you to join him. Sorry, just realized you could go either way.”   
“I meant interfering, but yeah.” Bean replied.

“Then you definitely shouldn’t, unless you _want_ him to follow you around all the time sighing over you not being with him.” Magnhild crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.   
“Let’s go.” Bean said quickly.   
“Ha, that’s the spirit!” Magnhild grinned, before leading her through the town.

Bean heard snatches of fiddle music on the air, and began looking around. Magnhild took her hand and led her down an alleyway, to a park. A large man with graying hair was standing, surrounded by onlookers, and playing the fiddle.

It sounded like the first hint of summer, with the sun shining high. It sounded like a cold dip into the sea on a hot day. It sounded like seeing your lover smile, the sun shining through their hair and eyes and revealing hints of gold stretched throughout them. This was Levan Tsereteli.

He finished playing, and Bean jolted out of her thoughts, then ran over. “Hi, I need your help.”   
He gave her a nod and a smile, and moved past her.   
“He doesn’t speak English, I’ll translate.” Magnhild said.

Levan’s face lit up upon seeing her. “Magdalena!”   
She grinned and waved at him, and he swept her into a bear hug. She laughed, and hugged him back.   
“I didn’t know you two knew each other that well.” Bean said.   
Levan put Magnhild back down, and she tried to fold herself back into her cool and aloof persona. “Levan has been more of a father to me than Einar ever was. I made my first solo voyage here, heard him play… immediately tried to pickpocket him, and then got caught. He took me in, told me about trading here and other parts of the Black Sea, and taught me the language.”

“Wow. Can you tell him about Hans?” Bean asked.   
Magnhild turned to Levan, and said something in Georgian. He nodded again, this time more thoughtfully, then replied, before turning to walk away. Bean and Magnhild followed, back to a small house near the park—really, it was a normal house, but he was a fairly large man, able to rival Tryggve even in his old age. The three sat down at a small table near the kitchen. A tiny old woman poked her head out, and her face also lit up upon seeing Magnhild. “Magdalena, sakhlshi khar!” She ran over and kissed Magnhild’s cheek, before noticing Bean. “Vin aris sheni megobari?”

Bean waved slightly as Magnhild introduced her. Levan’s wife—who was introduced as Ketevan—bustled away to the kitchen, and returned with a cheese-filled bread for Magnhild, Levan, and Bean to share.   
“So, what’s your problem, specifically?” Levan asked through Magnhild.   
Bean explained the situation with Hans. “He said he was trained by the devil.” She finished.

Levan’s face grew very serious as Magnhild translated.   
“And what do you expect me to do?”   
“I don’t know… outfiddle him? Maybe then, my father won’t make me marry him.” Bean replied. “I know you can do it—your fiddling is amazing.”   
“Thank you, I have worked very hard on it. You know about when I out-fiddled the Devil, then?”   
“Yeah.”

Levan paused for a minute, before continuing.   
“I was young and foolish then. It almost cost me everything. When I came home and told Keto, she was very angry with me for risking myself like that. But… if what you say is true, I cannot stand idly by and let this happen to you. The Devil should not be able to take you just because you cannot play.”   
“Oh, no, he’s not the Devil. He called himself the Devil’s _brother_.” Bean said.

“I know. Magdalena translates well, for neither being her first tongue.” Levan gave Magnhild a proud smile here, and she grinned back.   
Levan—and Magnhild—continued. “But the Devil’s brother is no angel himself, and is clearly a way for the Devil to take you. Any idea why he wants you, specifically?”

Before Bean could answer, Magnhild held up a finger, and replied on Bean’s behalf. “Misi tkmit dzalian gaumartia. Utsnaurad gaumartia. Chvens mogzaurobas sakhlidan mkholod erti k’vira da nekhevari dasch’irda. Vpikrob misma ighbalma karma shetsvala.”   
Levan nodded solemnly.

“What’d you say?” Bean asked Magnhild.   
“That you’re lucky—Vanya and Keto are somewhat… religious.” Magnhild shrugged. “I’m not mentioning that stuff you said in the boat.”  
“Oh, thanks.” Bean replied.   
“I think I must help you—not only for you, not only because Magdalena is asking, but because the Devil does not need any more power.” Levan said firmly through Magnhild.

“Thank you! How much do I need to pay you?” Bean asked.   
Levan held up a hand. “No payment necessary. This is my duty as a Christian. I kept my soul—but it is worth nothing if I do not use it to save others. You, Magdalena… acts of kindness are the only things any of us can rely on. And if I can help you the way I helped Magdalena, perhaps you will go on to help others.”   
“I’ll do my best.” Bean replied.   
“That’s all any of us can do.”

“…so why do they call you Magdalena?” Bean asked.   
Magnhild waved her hand dismissively. “I gave Vanya a fake name when we first met. He saw through it immediately, but they still call me Magdalena as a nickname.”   
“Aww.” Bean grinned. “Big bad Viking found a family.”  
Magnhild shoved her shoulder playfully. “Shut up.”

Levan watched them for a minute, then turned to Magnhild. Gently, he asked, “Es sheni sheq varebulia?”   
“Ara! Mas megobari bich’I hq’avs!” Magnhild said quickly. “Mas _dzalian_ uq’vars igi. Igi ar chak’et’avda masze mogzaurobis sheshakheb.”   
“Umbralod vambob, chven gvinda rom bednieri iq’ot. Is lamazi chans.” Levan laid a gentle hand on Magnhild’s shoulder.

Magnhild buried her face in her hands.   
“What’d he say?” Bean asked.   
“I told him you have a boyfriend.” Magnhild said.   
“…what prompted that?” Bean asked.

“He thinks we’re dating. I’ve had enough trouble with princesses in bed, thank you very much.” Magnhild groaned.   
“Ar vguliskhmob shenze ganats’q’enebas. Ubralod is rom manamde adamiani arasdros migighiat.” Levan said.

“K’argia.” Magnhild said, not taking her hands away from her face.   
Ketevan poked her head out of the kitchen. “Tkven khom ar utkharit rom chven mas da mis sheq’varebuls vuch’ert mkhars?”   
“Diakh.” Levan said, as Magnhild called, “Is chemi megobari ar aris!”

Ketevan blinked in surprise before disappearing back into the kitchen.   
“Remind me to translate your cute little ‘forbidden love story’ sometime.” Magnhild said to Bean.   
“I mean, it’s not really _forbidden_—hopefully my dad will be cool with it once we get rid of Hans.” Bean replied.   
“_Hopefully_.” Magnhild snorted. “If I recall correctly, kings prefer to have more of a say in who their daughters marry.”

“Jesus, Magnhild. How many princesses did you have sex with?” Bean asked.   
“Just the one. The others turned me down, partially for reasons like that.” Magnhild admitted. “_But_ before my lifelong ban, I was able to learn a lot about their hierarchy and things like that.”   
Bean took a bit more of the cheese bread. “How much jewelry was it?”   
“I think it was more the fact that she needed to save face with her husband.” Magnhild muttered. “How was I supposed to know they had a child?”   
“_Jesus_, Magnhild.” Bean groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Georgian has a different script than the Roman alphabet, so I had to use pronounciations from Google Translate. 
> 
> Magdalena, sakhlshi khar! -- Magdalena, you’re home!   
Vin aris sheni megobari? -- Who is your friend? 
> 
> Misi tkmit dzalian gaumartia. Utsnaurad gaumartia. Chvens mogzaurobas sakhlidan mkholod erti k’vira da nekhevari dasch’irda. Vpikrob misma ighbalma karma shetsvala. -- She said she’s very lucky. Strangely lucky. Our trip only took a week and a half from home. I think her luck changed the wind. 
> 
> Es sheni sheq varebulia? -- Is this your girlfriend?   
Ara! Mas megobari bich’I hq’avs! Mas dzalian uq’vars igi. Igi ar chak’et’avda masze mogzaurobis sheshakheb. -- No! She has a boyfriend. She loves him so much. She wouldn’t shut up about him on the ride over. 
> 
> Umbralod vambob, chven gvinda rom bednieri iq’ot. Is lamazi chans. -- I’m just saying, we want you to be happy. She seems nice.   
Ar vguliskhmob shenze ganats’q’enebas. Ubralod is rom manamde adamiani arasdros migighiat. -- I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that you’ve never brought someone home before. 
> 
> K'argia -- it's fine.   
Tkven khom ar utkharit rom chven mas da mis sheq’varebuls vuch’ert mkhars? -- Did you tell her we support her and her girlfriend?   
Diakh -- Yes.   
Is chemi megobari ar aris! -- She’s not my girlfriend!


	25. You know that previous 5 chapter arc? Doesn't matter

Bean took a deep breath. “Smells like home.”   
“Smells like piss.” Magnhild muttered next to her. “And rotten fish.”   
“Yeah, that’s what Dreamland smells like.” Bean shrugged. And indeed, over the horizon, you could make out the outline of the castle.   
Magnhild clasped a hand to Bean’s shoulder. “Well, not that this hasn’t been a fun few weeks, but I am ready to see the last of you, your cat, and your gross baby man.”

“Elf.” Bean corrected.   
Magnhild narrowed her eyes. “Are you _sure_?”   
“His name is _literally_ Elfo.”   
“And my name is Magnhild, doesn’t mean I’m a magnet. Doesn’t mean you’re actually a bean.” Magnhild pointed out.   
Bean shook her head dismissively as the ship drew closer to Dreamland.

At the castle, Pendergast stared at the list of people who were coming in for an audience with the king like his life depended on it. She’d been gone for three weeks, and he was beginning to suspect the worst. Maybe the sea had sunk her. Maybe she was hurt, dead, taken prisoner… and he couldn’t leave to find her. Mostly because he didn’t have any _proof_, but… he had to trust her to take care of herself, and he _did_, he just didn’t trust the world to be as good to her as it should be.

Hence, he stood like a statue near the entrance to the throne room, staring at the list. The words had long since lost all meaning, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that if he didn’t think about it, he wouldn’t rush over to the sea to make sure she was coming home. The point was that if he didn’t think about it, he didn’t think about her being lost or hurt and him not being able to help. The point was that he didn’t think about her marrying Hans on the slim chance that she _did_ come back and her plan didn’t work. …he was thinking about it now. Dammit.

Someone whistled to get his attention, and he looked up. The first person he saw was a huge man with a graying beard. The soldier in him automatically started looking for a strategy if it came to a fight, but the man’s posture was relaxed, and he wasn’t actually looking at Pendergast. The second person he saw was a smiling blonde woman, who was wearing Norse style clothing. A Viking? In front of Zog? This better be good.

The third person he saw was his princess, and that was all the warning he got before she tackled him into a kiss. It wasn’t a chaste kiss, either—she wrapped her legs around him and her teeth scraped up against his lower lip and his tongue. He eventually pulled away, though he kept her close, running a hand through her hair. “I was so worried about you.”   
“I’m fine.” Bean replied. “How was everything here?”

“Dull.” He replied. Over Bean’s shoulder, the Viking was making a face at Luci and Elfo. Luci was mimicking her as a response, but Elfo didn’t have the sad look on his face.   
“Sad aris esh’makis dzma?” The huge man asked the Viking, who shrugged.   
“Where’s Hans?” Bean asked.   
“That’s what Vanya said.” The Viking muttered.

Pendergast grimaced. “I stopped tracking his movements after the first week, when your father pulled me aside and stressed that Hans wasn’t supposed to have an _accident_. He’s probably in some dark corner somewhere, plotting his evil plans…”   
“Ey, Beanie, you’re back.” Zog called. “Everyone else, fuck off.”

The peasants filed out, grumbling. Bean’s small group moved up to the throne.   
“Dad, this is Levan Tseretili.” Bean gestured to the huge man, who bowed his head in greeting. “He’s a better fiddle player than Hans, so I shouldn’t have to marry Hans.”   
“You wanna marry him?” Zog asked.   
“No, I wanna marry Pendergast. _But_ Levan also wants me to not marry Hans!” Bean said quickly. “He came all this way—at least hear him.”

“Fine.” Zog said. “But this better be good, Beanie.”   
Bean nodded at Levan, who lifted his fiddle to his chin and began to play. He sounded like the first bite to one of _those_ apples Pendergast’s cousin sent that he gave to Della. He sounded like a first kiss in the rain. He sounded like sitting next to a fire after coming in from winter cold. He sounded amazing—ethereal.

“Wow.” Zog said. “You’re right, that did sound really good. Better than Hans by far.”   
“So I don’t have to marry him?” Bean said excitedly.   
“No, you still have to.” Zog replied. “Can’t you see I’m doing what’s best for ya?”   
“I cannot see that _at all_.” Bean replied.   
“Besides, I already sent out invitations! Ya gotta get married!”

Everyone pointed at Pendergast.  
“He doesn’t count.” Zog replied.   
“Why?!” Bean demanded.   
“’Cause I’m the king, that’s why!” Zog huffed, before glaring at Magnhild. “Hey, arencha a Viking?”   
“Jeg snakker ikke engelsk.” Magnhild replied innocently.

“I don’t understand that, so I’m not going to push the issue.” Zog said. “Beanie, how was your bachelorette party, by the way? You get all this Pendergast stuff outta your system?”   
“No, Dad! I obviously haven’t!” Bean snapped. “And I still don’t want Hans near me!”   
“Damn. What’s a three week long bachelorette party for if yer not gonna ditch yer boyfriend to marry the man who more or less walked in here and won your hand in marriage?”

Bean pointed at Levan. “But you _said_ he played better!”   
“Yeah, but that’s not the issue.” Zog shrugged. “I like Hans. Gast, don’t you like Hans?”   
“Oh yes, I absolutely love the part where he is going to forcibly marry the love of my life and hurt her and makes no attempt to hide this, the part where he consistently disrespects me and everything I stand for, his shady dealings with the literal Devil… oh, and who could forget the part where he seems to have absolutely nothing to do with himself besides cause trouble for no reason and will almost certainly kill you and Prince Derek?” Pendergast snapped, crossing his arms.

“Eh, you’ll warm up to him.” Zog said.   
“The only warmth between us will be the fires of Hell.” Pendergast muttered.   
“Aw, you’re not going to Hell.” Luci said. “You’re so stinking good, it’d never work.”   
“I will after I murder Hans with my bare hands.” Pendergast shot back. This was about when Magnhild and Levan left. No one stopped them—no one seemed to notice.  
“Hey! No murderin’!” Zog ordered, pointing at Pendergast. “I thought I told ya to be cool about Hans, Gast. What, I gotta _order_ you to like the guy?”   
“You _could_.”

Zog glared at Bean. “Look at whatcha did to Gast! He used ta listen ta me! He used ta respect me more—but now, after ya started makin’ out, he’s talkin’ back, thinkin’ ‘bout murderin’ Hans… ya see why I can’t letcha marry him? Yer a bad influence, and you turned my knight against me!”   
“You turned him against you _yourself_!” Bean shot back. “You’re a bad king, and a worse father! It’s not Pen’s fault that he doesn’t want to see me get hurt! It’s not even a _fault_—it’s a good thing that he’s so sweet and caring!”   
“You need someone like Hans to control ya.” Zog snapped.

“I’d rather _die_.” Bean spat, before storming out. Luci and Elfo followed her.   
“You’re dismissed, Gast.”   
“Oh, thank God.” Pendergast ran after Bean, and quickly caught up with her. “Hey, hey, it won’t come to that.”

“How?” Bean asked, wiping at her eyes. “Because you won’t run away with me, and you can’t kill him ‘cause he’ll come back—Luci said, remember? And Levan didn’t work and…”   
Pendergast pulled her close. “I don’t know. I don’t have a plan yet. But it’s going to work out, okay?”   
She wrapped her arms around him, sobbing onto his shoulder (well, really, his pauldron). “I’m so scared, Pen.”   
He ran a hand over her hair. “I know, Bean. I know.”   
They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, both unsure of the future.


	26. Merkimer gets a girlfriend??

There was a week until the wedding. Bean had slipped back into an alcoholic bender, and the knights were more or less watching the borders, the stables, and the docks. She was trapped, not that it mattered anyway. Luci and Elfo were watching her more closely than they were, anyway.

Pendergast’s own knights were out of his control. He was effectively out of a job, and the love of his life was completely out of it. He was beginning to spiral. Bean couldn’t leave Dreamland, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t saddle up Carrots himself and go for a ride to distract himself. It was about the only thing that he _could_ do. Bean turned to alcohol when she was in pain, but he couldn’t do that.

Carrots galloped out of Dreamland as soon as Pendergast saddled and mounted him. From her tower, Bean drunkenly watched Pendergast go. “His hair looks like fire…” She muttered, watching the sun hit his ginger-brown hair contrasting with the dark hair of the horse.  
“Where the hell is he going?” Luci wondered, hopping up next to her.

“Who knows? Everyone always leaves…” Bean replied. “Stands to reason he’d leave too… why would he stay?”  
“Because he loves you?” Elfo tried.  
Bean threw her bottle out the window. “That doesn’t _fucking_ matter! You heard what he said! The minute I get married I’m… he won’t… none of this matters! There’s no way to fix this!”  
“Let’s get you some more alcohol.” Luci said.

“That won’t fix this either.” Elfo pointed out.  
“It’ll make her feel better. Elfo, go get the alcohol.” Luci ordered.  
“Why me?” Elfo asked.  
“I don’t have hands.” Luci replied.  
Bean didn’t say anything, she just kept staring out the window.

Pendergast, meanwhile, had reached the forest. He didn’t stop, or steer Carrots to any particular place… at least, not intentionally. It felt more like he himself was being steered this way and that. He rode past the princes, who at least were being kept in line with more patrols. He rode past many little houses in the woods that he knew instinctively not to bother with. Carrots turned sharply, and Pendergast realized that his hands were twisting the reins.

He was about to stop Carrots, and slide off, when they reached a house that really should have been visible from a distance. Something inside him settled at seeing it. Carrots stopped in front of a massive wrought metal fence, but it didn’t look like iron. Pendergast dismounted, and took off a glove, laying a hand on the fence. It didn’t sting like iron did either. The fence opened at the light touch, and Pendergast led Carrots inside. There was a stable connected to the house, and Pendergast tied Carrots to a post there.

He knocked on the door, because at the very least it was a distraction. No one answered, but once again his touch opened the door. “Hello?” He called. “Anybody?”  
He waited outside, because true knights did not trespass, and that was also a great way to get murdered.

The door swung open further, revealing a dark, empty hallway. “Hello?” Pendergast called again. Torches flared up of their own accord, startling him, but also revealing portraits on the wall. The one closest to him was of a golden haired woman, reading a story to two children in bed. The smaller one was listening intently, whereas the older one had fallen asleep. The elder was out of the light of the candle, but given the ginger-brown hair and bark-brown eyes of the younger… Pendergast stared at the portrait, a lump rising in his throat. His mother looked so young and happy reading to him.

With a jolt, he realized Thomas was probably older now than their mother had been when she died. He also noticed that next to the painting, there was a small sign, saying, “Are you trying to stop your true love from marrying another? Please ring the bell and wait.” Next to a long rope.  
Pendergast rang the bell.

“Just a moment!” A woman called. The door swung shut behind him, and when he turned back, Della was standing next to him. She was wearing a beautiful green gown that brought out the colour of her eyes.  
“Agh! I mean, hello, Grandmother.” Pendergast said.  
“Hello, Pendergast Llewellyn Griffiths.” Della said. “…I wasn’t expecting anyone else today.”  
“Anyone else?” Pendergast asked. “Oh, and you can just call me Pendergast.”  
“My job.” Della shrugged. “Follow, boy.”

“Or that.” Pendergast muttered. “You could also call me that.”  
He obediently followed her to a nearby room, where a woman was sitting on a couch, her legs drawn to herself. She eyed Pendergast with interest. “I didn’t know men had these problems as well.”  
“This is my grandson.” Della said.  
“He looks fairly adult to be your grandson.” The woman said.

Della laughed. “Thank you, dear. Pendergast, sit down next to… Rosemary, was it? Now, she got here first, so please, share what you need to me to do.”  
Rosemary nodded eagerly as Pendergast sat down on the other end of the couch. “Well, I was taken by an animal who turned out to be a prince. At night, he would come to me in the form of a man.”  
Pendergast immediately turned red. “Disguising his identity? That’s not honorable.”

Rosemary shot him an annoyed look, and Della hid a smile behind a sip of tea. Rosemary continued. “I got curious as to his appearance, and snuck a candle, and I caught a look at him after he fell asleep. The wax dripped onto him and woke him up, though! Oh, he was so angry!”  
“As always happens, back to Psyche and Eros…” Della mused.

Pendergast shook his head slowly. “Why should he have been angry? You were the one who had a right to see the man who was dishonoring you!”  
Rosemary shot him another look, this one a bit more confused, then looked at Della, who shrugged.  
“Well, I set about doing all the traditional things to get him back—wandering for seven years, breaking out seven pairs of iron shoes, etc.” Rosemary continued. “But when I finally found him again, he was fully human during the day—the curse had been broken, you see—and he had forgotten me! He’s set to marry a princess of a foreign land in a week!”

“Oh, you poor thing.” Della said. “Pendergast, don’t comment. I can see that you want to, but _don’t_. This is the way things are.”  
“I was just going to say, my true love’s getting married in a week as well.” Pendergast muttered. “And I was going to ask what your love’s name was, because it could very easily work out for both our happiness if it turned out our loves were marrying each other.” Privately, he thought Hans wasn’t the sort to _have_ a true love, but it could be an easy solution. Della poured him a cup of tea and he took it.

“Prince Merkimer of Bentwood.” Rosemary sighed.  
Pendergast nearly spat out his tea. “_Merkimer_?”  
“My true love!” Rosemary swooned.  
“…the pig thing was _definitely_ not there seven years ago.” Pendergast muttered. “…who the hell agreed to marry Merkimer? Especially when he’s doing shit like—why am I even surprised that he’s sunk so low?”  
“I don’t know her name.” Rosemary said defensively. “I’m going to save him! And he hasn’t sunk low at all!”  
“Well, I suppose he has nowhere to go but up.”

Della waved her hand. “Both of you, calm down. Pendergast, Rosemary here has more or less had a sense of time dilation if I understand correctly. Her story is different from yours.”  
“…I saw Merkimer last week.” Pendergast muttered.  
“How was he?” Rosemary demanded.

“Miserable, as always.” Pendergast replied.  
Rosemary gave a cry of despair. “I must go to him!”  
“Please, do.” Pendergast said. “If what you say is true, he must have fucked off back to Bentwood.”  
Della nodded slowly. “Your story has so moved me, Rosemary, and to apologize for my grandson’s boorishness, I will give you three gifts. You will open them when the time comes, and you will know what to do with them.” From her sleeve, she withdrew three walnuts, and handed them to Rosemary, who nodded and ran off. “Thank you, ma’am!”

“What just happened?” Pendergast asked.  
Della sipped her tea. “She’s not from your time, Pendergast. I tried to explain this—she’s from a bit in the future, when Merkimer’s curse eases off a bit and he starts a new story.”  
“How often does this happen?” Pendergast asked, aghast.  
Della shrugged. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I tend to have one in here every… week, or so? It’s not worth figuring out when they come from, exactly. My home isn’t tethered to the timeline of the human world the way that… say, Dreamland is. That’s why I was so surprised that you showed up here today. Drink your tea.”

Pendergast drank his tea. “And they’re all like her?”  
“Mostly.”  
“Why do you help them, Grandmother?”  
“I get a stipend from the Seelie Court for acting as a… wise, magical woman.” Della waved her hand vaguely. “I have to—ever since I had a half-human daughter, I’ve been… separate, from the courts. However, we still need people up here to do magic for mortals, otherwise they get desperate and start breaking into the courts and rings themselves.”

The tea burned Pendergast’s throat. “Do you… regret Mother?”  
“No.” Della replied softly. “Never her, or your grandfather. I wasn’t… as present as I could have been in Lynette’s life, or your lives, and that’s what I regret. Besides, I asked for this particular post.”  
“Oh?” Pendergast asked.  
Della smiled slyly. “Before I had your mother, I was going to have an arranged marriage. I like helping youths find true love, because everyone should have the chance I did.”

“How did you meet Grandfather?” Pendergast asked. In the back of his mind, he vaguely remembered a sighing, wistful man with a quick smile, always ready to pick up his grandchildren.  
“Oh, well… the way you were blushing earlier when Rosemary was talking about her _night-time rendezvous_, I think that might be a story for another time.” Della replied. “I will let you keep thinking that your mother was somehow born of immaculate conception, though.”  
Pendergast promptly choked on his tea. “_Grandmother!_”

Della shrugged. “So, your true love’s getting married in a week. I don’t suppose you want tiny golden artifacts, or a dress as golden as the sun, another as silver as the moon, or a third as brilliant as the stars, to trade for time with your love? That’s what the women who always come to me leave with, and so far none have returned to complain…”  
“No, but I can’t just… _kill_ Hans, for a variety of reasons.” Pendergast said, thumping a fist against his chest to try and clear out the rest of his cough from swallowing his tea wrong.

Della leaned back in her chair, a thoughtful look on her face. “It’ll be dangerous.”  
“I have nothing to lose.”  
“Mm… there’s no time to teach you magic, so I’ll have to have a general spell. If something goes wrong, you’ll be the one to suffer.”  
“I’m not afraid.” Pendergast leaned forward.

Della stood, and crossed to a cabinet. She took out three apples, exactly like the apples that Pendergast had given her.  
“How will those help?” Pendergast asked.  
“Shh… watch.” Della replied, setting them down next to the teapot. The first one, she tapped and a green mist swirled around it.

Pendergast reached for it, and she swatted his hand away. “Don’t. It needs a minute to settle.”  
The second one, she poured the tea over, and a cloud of steam rose up over it. The apple absorbed the tea, and Pendergast looked at his cup. The third one, she took out a knife, and sawed the apple in half. She muttered under her breath, and the apple became wooden underneath her fingers, a hinge appearing on the back and a clasp on the front. Satisfied, she pulled something out of her pocket and put it in, before closing it. It reverted to the appearance of an apple, just like the others.

“How do you know I won’t confuse them?” Pendergast asked.  
Della shrugged. “They will twist and turn so that the first one you grab will always be the one you need. It’s something with all my spells. They also will… there’s a sort of thing at the back of your mind, when you need to use them. Just pull the stem, and the spells will do the rest.”

“I… thank you so much, Grandmother.” Pendergast said.  
Della smiled, and waved him off. “Anything for family, especially when you’re such a nice boy. My home is always open to you.”  
He cautiously gathered the apples and kissed her on the cheek, before returning to Carrots and leaving for Dreamland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rosemary is an amalgamation of several stories, but really the best example is 'East of the Sun, West of the Moon'. It's trope 425a, search for the lost husband. 
> 
> Della is an a bunch of 'wise magical women' in the stories, usually there's more than one but Rosemary and Della are saving time. Della also has a Disney counterpart, but she actually leans more into the Italian version where there is no fairy. We'll get to that later.


	27. Hans gets to monologue for a while

As Pendergast approached the gate, the guards jumped at seeing him.   
“It’s gotten that late already?” Pendergast asked, somewhat sarcastically, as the sun had set while he was in the forest. “Still, I remain your commanding officer until further notice, open up.”   
“Are you dead?” One of them asked.

“What?” Pendergast replied, caught deeply off-guard.   
“It’s just… you’ve been gone for a week, sir. Popular gossip said you’d killed yourself. Sir.” The other guard replied.   
“I… no. I didn’t. A week?” Pendergast blinked owlishly.   
Both guards nodded.

“Well, I’m still alive.” Pendergast said. “How’s the princess?”   
Both guards exchanged a look.   
“She’s… no one’s seen her for a week, either.” The first guard said. “Her cat and elf say she’s fine, but Zog also won’t let them bring alcohol back to her room, so she’s probably drying out.”   
“Is she married yet?” Pendergast asked.

“No, the wedding’s tomorrow.” The second guard said.   
His heart clenched. He had a narrow window of opportunity to save her—would it be enough? “Open the gate.” Pendergast ordered. “_Now_.”   
The guards exchanged a look, and did as he said. He urged Carrots faster and faster.   
As he left, the second guard said, “I _really_ hope he’s not a vengeful ghost.”   
“It’s not our fault if he is.” The first one replied. “I mean, we let him in, but he probably won’t kill _us_.”

Pendergast stabled Carrots properly, and set off in search of Hans. No one seemed to know where he was—it’s not as if he had any friends, or any sort of a social life. Multiple people expressed surprise at Pendergast being alive, which was also deeply worrying, but none of them were Bean, the cat, or the elf. He’d reassure her afterwards, if he had time. The important thing now was stopping Hans.

He headed into town, listening to gossip at the bars. Hans wasn’t there either. No one knew what the princess’ future husband looked or acted like, so it seems Hans was never there. In desperation, Pendergast headed towards the inn, since the innkeeper at least knew where Hans _might_ be.   
He pounded on the door.

“Are you here for a room?” The innkeeper asked.   
“No, I’m here about the devil’s sooty brother.” Pendergast replied, aware of the irony of the reversal of the last time he’d been here.   
“Oh. Him.” The innkeeper looked around worriedly. “Come in.”

“Aren’t you going to ask if I’m dead?” Pendergast deadpanned, though he entered anyway.   
“There are worse things than a dead man seeking to avenge his love.” The innkeeper said quietly. “And… my… I have a contact at the castle. You mean a great deal to a great many people, moreso than Hans. Odval, the princess… they’ll be relieved to know that at least part of you is still alive.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Pendergast said.   
The innkeeper nodded hurriedly. “First door on your left, sir.”

Pendergast proceeded to Hans’ room, where he could faintly hear the sound of violin music grow louder as he approached. He hesitated, then knocked on the door.   
“Come in.” Hans called.   
Pendergast entered.

“It wasn’t nice of you to keep me waiting, Sir Pendergast.” Hans said without turning around, face turned towards the castle.   
“I didn’t know that you were expecting me.”   
“Of course. You can’t rest while I live, because I will take what’s mine, and you think it belongs to you. I can’t rest while _you_ live, because if I am to take it in hand, hope that you’ll eventually _save_ her will need to be extinguished.” This last part was dripping with a combination of sarcasm and derision.

“Don’t call her _it_ again.” Pendergast snapped.   
Hans sighed. “She’s just a woman.”   
“Not to me! She’s a little messy, I’ll admit it, but at least the way I love her isn’t put on a pedestal. We both have flaws, but she’s… she lights up my life. Even if she’s not trying to, or doing something else, I can always trust her to have a great story to share with me. She’s incredibly brave, and she’s got a good heart, and it’s a bit of a waste that she can’t be a knight, but at least my job’s safe.” Pendergast gave a wry laugh. “She… she has a way of making everything work out along the way, and she’s so _lucky_, she’s nearly killed me several times with worry when I thought she’d died. She makes me want to be better in so many ways. She makes me want to be cleverer, so I can keep up with her. She makes me want to be a better man, a better knight, even if she challenges everything I know. She makes me _happy_, and feel like I’m worth something more than as someone to hold a sword.”

Hans finally turned around. “Charming. So, what, you kill me?”   
“I can’t kill you.” Pendergast snapped.   
Hans barked a laugh. “_Really_? Even now, at the eleventh hour, you’re going to still pretend you’re the noble knight, winning his lady’s favor?”   
“And what are you, in this scenario you’ve cooked up?” Pendergast growled.

Hans shrugged. “I’m sure to you, I’m the villain. But really, I’m just a man trying to survive. So, why’re you here, _knight_? You can’t kill me, according to you.”   
“I’m here to give you one final warning.” Pendergast hissed.   
Hans looked amused. “Or what?”   
“Or I find out what I can do when I’m not trying to kill you, but you’re going to hurt Bean.”

Hans raised an eyebrow. “Am I supposed to be scared? You know, I’ve known men like you my whole life. You hide behind pretensions of nobility, but in the end, you’re just as wicked as men like me, deep down. So go on, let it out. Show them all what you really are when you don’t get your way.”   
“This isn’t some _pissing contest._” Pendergast snarled. “And I’m _nothing_ like you.”

Hans laughed. “I find that hard to believe. All men are the same, especially men in power.”   
“I don’t know who hurt you, but I chose to be _different_ than the people that hurt me.”   
“I am different! I don’t _hide_ my sins.” Hans finally snapped.   
“You don’t hide because that’s all you are! You’re not _honest_, you’re just bitter, and you take it out on other people!” Pendergast reached into his pocket, almost unaware of what he was doing.

“An apple?” Hans laughed. “What are you going to do with that?”   
“Honestly? I don’t know.” Pendergast pulled the stem.   
Immediately, that same green mist from earlier began to swirl around the room. Both men glared at each other, even as they began coughing.

Pendergast dropped to his knees, and his lungs began forcing him to try to breathe, to get any air possible, which meant taking deep breaths.   
In the end, one man escaped the room, panting. The other lay there, unconscious as sleep curled around him, and would do so for the next hundred years.

The man who escaped walked out of the inn, looking towards the cathedral as the sun was beginning to rise. He had a wedding to get to, and the only formalwear he’d be able to get at this hour was a Dreamland dress uniform. So be it.


	28. I like Princess Marianne

Bean was stone cold sober when she sat in the Cathedral, waiting to be married. Different plans flitted through her mind, but none stuck.   
“So… do you want Communion wine?” Luci asked. “Eh? Get you through this wedding too?”   
“Her dad got rid of all alcohol within a 20 foot radius of her.” Elfo replied.   
“You could steal some.” Luci recommended.

“Hey, guys?” Bean asked. “You’ll—you’ll come see me tomorrow, to make sure I’m okay, right?”   
“Of course. Nothing’s going to keep us away.” Luci curled up in her lap, doing his best to shed all over Dagmar’s repaired wedding dress.   
“Thanks.” Bean began petting him. “It means a lot that I’m not… alone.”   
A knock on the door cut off Elfo’s reply.

“It’s open!” Bean called. Two women walked in. One was Sarah Miller, who was now the somewhat happy guest at the wedding of the miserable bride. The other was a woman with dark skin, dressed in a widow’s habit.   
“Hello?” Bean said, confused.   
The woman in black bowed her head. “Hello, Princess Tiabeanie. I’m afraid that this is the first time that we’ve met in person, but I’m sure that you remember me from our correspondence. I am Princess Marianne of Kirschen.”

“Oh, hi!” Bean said, standing up and dropping Luci in the process. “What’re you doing here?”   
Marianne smiled delicately. “I am here representing Kirschen, as my father is busy at the moment. And I felt I owed you any help I could offer.”   
“Same here.” Sarah added. “I never thought when you caught the bouquet…” She trailed off, before pressing a knife into Bean’s hands.

It cut her gloves, and Bean quickly grabbed the hilt. “Uh… what’s this?”   
“It’s the knife from my wedding.” Sarah said. “I… just in case you need it.”   
Marianne slightly inclined her head. “It is… well known how you regard your future husband, Princess Tiabeanie.”   
“Oh, call me Bean.” She said, hiding the knife in her bouquet. “Thanks, Sarah.”

“May I see your gloves, please?” Marianne asked.   
Bean slid them off, and Marianne examined them. “The fingers are unsalvageable, but… do you mind if I remove them?”   
“No, go ahead.” Bean said. “Why, though?”

Marianne gave a genuine grin. “Because on the off-chance that anyone out there sees that you have a knife, say that it was for the purposes of outfit modification.”   
Sarah gasped. “Oh, I didn’t even think of that.”   
Bean handed Marianne the gloves, and she withdrew her own knife, quickly and easily slicing off the fingers and leaving no loose threads. “Here, now try them.”

Bean slid them back on. “Nice. Um… why the knife?”   
Marianne shrugged. “I… I am scared to let what happened with Damien happen to me again… I saw your husband to be standing at the altar. He has the same dirty blond hair as mine, and according to rumors, the same background as a discharged soldier from our army. He sent shivers down my spine, if I may be so bold.”

“That’s Hans for you.” Bean sighed. “Creepy fucker.”   
Marianne looked surprised, before she cracked a huge grin. “I envy you, being able to speak so candidly.”   
Sarah nodded quickly.   
“Ha, fat lot of good it’s done me.” Bean replied.

“You have… the kind of voice that not many of us can have.” Marianne said.   
“Pen once said your father loves you a lot, that this kind of thing was never expected to happen to you.” Bean pointed out.   
Sarah’s face immediately fell, and Marianne’s turned neutral. “I know that, but I was always under the impression that the love of a king was conditional. To be the queen of Kirschen, I must not be loud and emotional… and it was all too easy for it to be that I must not speak up on issues like this, because if I remind them that I am a woman, they will disregard me.”

“That sucks.” Bean said. “But hey, everyone disregards me anyway.”   
“Oh, no! You’re an icon!” Sarah said quickly, grabbing Bean’s free hand and catching Bean off-guard.   
“What? I’m just the king’s screw-up drunk daughter.” Bean tried to laugh it off.   
“You mean more to so many people than you know.” Sarah replied, gravely serious.

Bean pulled her hand back. “You guys are sweet, thank you.”   
Marianne turned to Sarah. “I didn’t catch your name.”   
Sarah flushed. “S-Sarah Miller, your majesty.” She dropped into a full curtsey, and Marianne gently lifted her chin so their eyes could meet. “Just Marianne is fine, Sarah Miller.”

Sarah’s eyes widened, and her blush deepened. “A-alright.”   
“Say it.” Marianne said gently. “I’m sure it’d be lovely coming from you.”   
“Alright, Marianne.”   
“What is happening?” Elfo muttered to Luci.

“Those two men that Bean killed both married lesbians.” Luci replied. “Hey, don’t worry, Bean. I’m sure after this is all over, you’ll find someone to have a fun date to a disaster wedding with.”   
Bean crossed her arms. “I already had one.”   
“Right, but it’s not like Pendergast is _dead_ or—” Luci scratched Elfo’s shoulder, effectively cutting him off.   
“Ow, what’d I say?” Elfo whined.

“I’m so sorry.” Sarah said quietly.   
“No, it’s okay.” Bean said, forcing a smile. “I already knew, I heard Bunty talking about it. I just… I keep saying it doesn’t matter, but…”   
Marianne laid a gentle hand on Bean’s shoulder. “It’s okay to grieve, both for your lover and for your life as an unmarried woman.”   
“It’s…” Bean struggled to speak, forcing back tears at the same time.   
“May we embrace?” Sarah asked. “You look like you need a hug.”

Bean promptly enveloped both her and Marianne in a bear hug.  
“Breathe, and focus on it.” Marianne recommended. “Although, I am given to understand that Hans deserves a miserable bride.”   
Bean choked out a laugh. “Thank you both so much.”

The bells began to chime, and there was a knock on the door. “Princess? Are you ready?”   
Bean gathered her bouquet.   
“I suppose that’s our cue to leave.” Sarah said. “We’re on your side no matter what.”   
“Thanks for making this a little more bearable.” Bean replied, her smile more genuine this time.


	29. Be sure to read 28 first it's a double update

Sarah and Marianne both filed out, and Elfo and Luci slunk out as well to take their seats. Odval was waiting for Bean on the other side.   
“Where’s my dad?” Bean asked.   
“Oh, I’m just escorting you to the end of the aisle, in case you try to run.” Odval said stiffly. “…although, if you were to quickly run off the other way, down through the hidden door in the confessional, there’d be no guards to catch you…”

Bean laughed. “Thanks, Odval. That’s kind of you. But they’d just catch me again.”   
“…he was the only one of those idiots who could find his way out of a paper bag.” Odval muttered.   
Bean’s throat tightened, and she focused on taking deep breaths. “Yeah. Yeah…”   
“Shall we, then?” Odval asked softly.

Bean nodded gently, and Odval lead her to the end of the aisle where Zog took her arm.   
“I’m prouda you, Beanie. Yer marryin’ a good man.” Zog said. “Dagmar’d be prouda you too.”   
Bean sincerely doubted that last one. “I will never forgive you for marrying me off to Hans.” Anger was easier than the crushing sadness.  
“Don’t say that, Beanie.” Zog said.

Bean took a deep breath, and focused on the dirty-blond hair in front of her, growing ever closer. She could have sworn that if she squinted hard enough at it, it was ginger-brown, but then she chided herself for wishful thinking. 

She reached the end of the aisle, and Zog sat down.   
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…” The Arch-Druidess began to speak. Bean glanced at her groom. Instead of his usual smirk, he was listening attentively, but also… he looked like he was trying to sneak glances back at her, almost like he was nervous. Good. He should be nervous.

She was surprised when she felt someone gently take her hand, and she looked up sharply.   
That wasn’t Hans.   
That was Pendergast.

He smiled at her, and lifted a finger to his lips.   
She stared at him. “What?”   
“I said, love is what binds us all.” The Arch-Druidess said.

Bean flushed in embarrassment. “Sorry.”   
The Arch-Druidess huffed, and continued.   
“Is this a trick?” Bean mouthed at Pendergast.   
He shook his head.

“Is this a dream?” She breathed, just loud enough for him to hear, but not loud enough to interrupt the Arch-Druidess again.   
“I’ll explain later.” Pendergast said, just as quietly. “…you don’t have to marry me if you don’t want to. I didn’t want to push you into anything…”

She smiled. “Yeah, it’s you.” She squeezed his hand.   
He squeezed back. “Like I said, you can leave if you want.”   
“No, because then your face will snap back to Hans.” She made a face.   
“Is that the only reason?” Pendergast muttered.   
She shook her head.

“Do you… sir… take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The Arch-Druidess asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow at them.   
“Oh. Yes, I do.” Pendergast said.   
“And do you, Princess Tiabeanie Mariabeanie de la Rochambeau Grunkwitz, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?” The Arch-Druidess said.

Before Bean could answer, Zog stood up, and said, “As her father, I’m sayin’ on her behalf that she does.”   
“Thanks, Dad.” Bean said sarcastically.   
The Arch-Druidess cleared her throat. “Do you have the rings?”   
Pendergast let go of her hand for a minute to reach into his dress coat pocket, and she saw his face flicker back to Hans. Now that she knew what to look for though, it still wasn’t… _Hans_. Snatches of his face in profile were pure Pendergast, his movements alone were different, and when she squinted at his hair, she could see it threaded with red instead of blond.

He found the rings and slipped one onto her finger, then handed her the other one. She slipped it onto his corresponding finger.   
“You may kiss the bride.” The Arch-Druidess said, clearly expecting some sort of a scene.   
Bean took the knife out of the bouquet and threw it to the ground, before Pendergast pulled her into a rough kiss. She smiled against his mouth, before kissing back.

The Arch-Druidess gasped.   
“It can’t be!” Odval said.   
From the back of the church, Luci called, “Hey, idiots! Your spit swap broke whatever glamour Pendergast was under!”   
Bean and Pendergast pulled away from each other, and sure enough, he was still her Pen.

Zog stood, his face red with rage. “I never expected this kinda disrespect from you, Gast! Guards!”   
Marianne stood as well, and gave a whistle. Immediately, men at the back of the church wearing the colours of Kirschen moved and blocked the door.   
“That won’t hold forever.” Pendergast said, his eye darting around, looking for exits.   
“But it bought us time.” Bean took his hand again.

“As the king, I declare this marriage _annulled_.” Zog hissed.   
Odval stood. “Unfortunately, it is… legal. The only annulment that could be found is on lack of consummation.”   
“He hasn’t had enough time!” Zog spat.   
Odval looked green. “Well… they both confirmed _before_ plans were officially made for her to marry Hans that they… had. Already. So technically, the marriage is consummated.”

“Fine, then I’ll kill him myself.” Zog snapped.   
“Bean, remember your first wedding?” Elfo yelled. “With the window!”   
Bean nodded at his direction, then took off her veil and wrapped it around her hand, moving to try and get to the window. The knife was caught on her gown, and ripped it, so she added that to her hand as well.

“Not the window!” The Arch-Druidess screamed.   
Bean shattered the window.   
“Roll, don’t try to land on your legs.” Pendergast recommended, before they both jumped.   
They landed sore, but otherwise unharmed.

“Get back here so I can kill ya!” Zog yelled from the cathedral.   
Pendergast grabbed Bean’s hand and pulled her behind the cathedral, to where Carrots was saddled and ready to go. He lifted her up, then swung himself up, and off they went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey remember that nightmare she had about twenty chatpers ago? It was kind of prophetic............


	30. Della's back, or more accurately, they're back at Della's

“So, how are you alive?” Bean asked, squeezing him tightly as she looked back over her shoulder.   
“I went to visit my grandmother, when I came back, a week had passed.” Pendergast replied. “I don’t know how that happened.”   
“How’d you deal with Hans?”   
“She gave me a few spells—the glamour you saw, and something that knocked him out and grew thorns over his room. The innkeeper said he was fine with it, he was uncomfortable renting it out to anyone after Hans anyway. He’s still getting paid, his son is small enough to slip in through the window and back out with that stupid satchel of gold.”

“Why’d you let me think you were dead?” She demanded. “Or let me in on your plan?”   
“I only got back last night, and I had to deal with Hans. I didn’t know it’d work out like that, sorry.” Pendergast said, before glancing over his shoulder. In the distance, they could hear riders coming. Pendergast urged Carrots to go faster.

Bean glanced back, and frowned in concentration. Suddenly, Carrots stumbled over a drunk man as they crossed the border of Dreamland. He quickly found his footing again.  
“How the fuck…?” Pendergast wondered.   
“Sorry!” Bean called back at the princes who were now poking their heads out of the bushes. “Send the medical bill to Dreamland!”

Pendergast laughed. “God, I missed you.”   
“Yeah, well, I missed you too, jerk.” Bean squeezed harder.   
“I have to say, you’re taking this all pretty well.”   
“Weird shit happens all the time. And… I hadn’t really come to terms with the fact that you were apparently dead anyway.” Bean muttered. He still heard her.

“Thank you, Bean.” He said, taking one hand off the reins to cover hers.   
“Thank _you_ for dealing with Hans. And for coming back.” Bean replied.   
“Sorry we left your cat and elf behind.”   
“They’ll turn up. They always do. Besides, I don’t want them on our honeymoon.” Bean made a face, and eve though he couldn’t see it, Pendergast snorted a laugh.

“I found someone even more awkward to be on our honeymoon.” He said.   
“Who?”   
“My grandmother.”   
“Yikes, Pen.”   
He looked back at her. “Don’t worry, she’s got a big house. She probably won’t hear us.”   
“_Good_, because I’m not toning it down for your grandmother’s sensibilities, dork.”   
“Your dork, princess.” He said, suspecting that she was just calling him that so that she could hear the response. Sure enough, she squeezed up against him again.

They made record time to Della’s house.   
“Wow, you weren’t kidding about the size.” Bean commented as Pendergast dismounted to open the gate.   
He turned back to her and raised an eyebrow as his response. “Do you think I need to exaggerate?”   
“If anything, it was an understate—_hey_. No, you don’t need to exaggerate about your dick size either.”

He laughed. “Thank you, though you’re the only one I intend to share it with.”   
“Don’t try to make your dick jokes sweet!” Bean said, though she was grinning. As Pendergast touched the gate, two things happened. One, Bean noticed that his face seemed a bit… pointier. Sharper. A chill ran down her spine.

The second, was that Bean subconsciously tethered Della’s home to that time period. She didn’t realize that she was doing it, and she wouldn’t have been able to recreate it. Della noticed immediately, her head turned sharply towards the door, and she unintentionally bared her teeth.

“Bean?” Pendergast asked. “Is everything okay?”   
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.” She slid off of the horse, and took his hand.   
“You look pale.” Pendergast said, as his face began to round itself out again. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay on the horse?”   
“No, no, I want to be with you.” She said quickly.

He cupped her face in his free hand. “Hey, it’s going to be okay, alright? We’re out of the woods now.”   
She frowned in concentration. “We’re still in the woods.”   
“Yeah, I don’t get that expression either. The point is, we made it this far. Don’t give up on me now.”   
She nodded slowly. “I’m not.”

He smiled, and kissed her forehead. “Good. I love you.”   
“I love you too.”   
She followed him into the stable, and helped him with Carrots. His face didn’t become _sharp_ again, but she kept watching him intently, waiting for when it would.   
They went to the front door, fingers laced together. Pendergast knocked. “Grandmother?”

The door immediately swung open. They peered down to the end of the long hallway, lit by torches, surrounded by portraits of Lynette.   
“This is… your grandmother?” Bean asked as they walked in.   
“My mother.” Pendergast corrected. “And _that_ is me, and my brother.” This painting he was using as an example had Lynette picking apples in the orchard, while Pendergast napped on a blanket and Thomas attacked a target on a tree.

“Aw, you were so cute!” Bean cooed.   
“I’m glad that you think so—doubtless, your children will look similar, given how much like _his_ father he looks.” Someone said from behind them.   
They both whipped around to see Della, who watched them, almost like a cat watching fish in a tank. Bean repressed a shudder. If she had thought Pendergast was sharp earlier, that didn’t hold a candle to Della. Her cheekbones, her nose, a glimpse of her teeth… they all seemed inhumanly sharp, like there were knives underneath her skin instead of bones.

“Hello, Grandmother. Sorry to spring this on you, especially since I just left…” Pendergast muttered the last part.   
“Nonsense, you’re family.” Della smiled, revealing rows and rows of canines. “And this is your wife, I presume? What a pretty girl.”

“Um, thank you.” Bean said, squinting at her.   
Della’s grin grew wider. “A pretty girl who looks like she knows a lot. Well then, I’m only going to say this once. Do you know what I did to the last pretty princess who fucked me over?”   
“Grandmother!” Pendergast snapped.

“It’s an honest question. Or, more accurately, what happened to her.” Della mused. “It was about three hundred years ago, I want to say? She was a princess of Bentwood, and you know, no one can quite agree what happened. The versions where I curse her, her prince acts so kind, and honorable. The real version… he didn’t. And you know… his first wife, the one who wanted pretty princess Talia cast into the fire, and her twins by rape eaten by their father, she didn’t get these ideas on her own. Cross me, and I’ll destroy you.”

“Jesus Christ. I never said I was going to _cross_ you.” Bean snapped. “If you don’t want us here, we can leave.”   
“And spend your wedding night in the forest?”   
“Not the first time I made Pen do that.” Bean pointed out.   
“This has been going considerably better than that wedding, though.” Pendergast pointed out. “Also, Grandmother, please don’t say stuff like that to my gir—to my _wife_.”

“Aw, thanks, Pen.” Bean said.   
Della smiled—this one was gentle and wistful. “You know, you’re a lot like your grandfather. Protecting women who could easily crush you like a bug… did you know, the first time I met him, the idiot tried to save me from a forest selkie? I could have killed him then—I even let my glamour drop, and he just… he tried to argue back that I should be thankful for him saving my life, and we went from there.”

“Did you try headbutting him? Worked for me.” Bean replied.   
Pendergast shot her an exasperated, but fond look. “You do realize that at this point I’m convinced you’re the exception to every rule?”   
“Don’t be all ‘you’re not like other girls’.” Bean huffed.   
“Understood.” Pendergast replied, immediately turning his attention back to Della.

Della still had that gentle smile on her face. “You’ve got him well-trained.”   
“I’m not a _dog_, Grandmother.”   
Della raised an eyebrow. “I never said you were. I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that given your reaction to Rosemary’s story, and the fact that she’s wearing white, that you and your wife don’t solve problems the way that we did—with vigorous sex.”

“_Grandmother_.” Pendergast hissed, trying to fight the rising blush.   
“Ha, _wow_.” Bean said, blinking owlishly. “Um… I don’t know how to react to that.”   
“Well, you deserve a proper wedding night—follow me. …you both know what sex is, correct?”   
“Yes, we know what sex is! _We have had sex_.” Pendergast had given up trying to fight the blush, and was just burying his face in his hands.

Bean leaned up and kissed his cheek. “You’re so cute when you get flustered.”   
Della snapped her fingers and led them up the stairs, down several hallways to the other end of the house, and then said, “If you need anything, try not to.”   
“Where’s your room?” Bean asked.   
Della barked a laugh. “At the other end of the house. I will not tell you where.” With that, she picked up he skirts and sprinted away.   
“…your grandmother’s kinda weird, Pen.” Bean finally said as Della rounded a corner.   
“Yeah.” Pendergast sighed, before pushing open the door. “But this isn’t about her. This is about us.”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Della is technically from 'Sun, Moon and Talia', the Italian version of 'Sleeping Beauty', but her presence there is from straight-up 'Sleeping Beauty'. Basically, her story is an amalgamation of two stories with the same root to create something darker-- something with intent behind it, like 'Sleeping Beauty', but with the story elements of 'Sun, Moon and Talia' -- a story where the prince didn't stop at a kiss, where she was woken up by her children, where the terrible prince was already married. Della is just saying that she encouraged the situation to be worse, but considering how bad it already was, is kind of fucked up. Della's not a nice lady.


	31. We need to discuss Bean's thoughts on Pendergast basically faking his death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't want to read the sex scene, skip from, _ "Not in this context. May I?" _ to _ "You know we have a bed over there?" Pendergast said, running a hand through her hair. _

The room was painted to look like a forest, with a rich green carpet covering the floor, and a luxurious matching bed.   
“Oh, wow. This is nicer than _my_ room.” Bean noted.   
“I wouldn’t know.” Pendergast said.

She squinted at him. “You’ve _been_ in my room.”   
“Not in this context, princess. May I?”   
She smirked at him. “May you _what_?”   
He smiled back, then in one fluid motion closed the door and pushed her up against it. “May I _fuck_ you, princess?”

She nodded slowly, and he sank to one knee in front of her, close enough to touch.   
“We’re already married.”   
“I know. Hold your dress up for me?” He asked. She gathered the hem of it in her hands, and raised it.   
“…you’re not wearing underclothes.”

“In my defense there weren’t any when I was getting dressed. I checked.”   
He smirked up at her. “And here I intended to do this with them around your ankles.”   
“Do wh—_oh_.” Her fingers on her free hand curled into his hair, his hands firmly on her hips, keeping her open. Occasionally, he’d move his mouth to kiss or bite her thighs, causing her to whine in agitation.   
“Not good?” He asked, leaning back slightly.

“Good.” She breathed. “I just want you to keep doing that thing with your tongue… why do you always do that?”   
He cocked his head. “Why wouldn’t I? You enjoy it, and you taste so good.”   
“What happened—_oh_—to the guy who got all flustered seeing me naked?” She asked.

“Well, we’re married now.” Pendergast moved his hands so that they could do the work that his mouth had abandoned, causing her to grip the wall.   
“Th-that’s your secret? Anything goes, once we’re _married_?” She asked.   
“That, and I’ve had… about a month and a half to think about fucking you when I haven’t been able to.” Pendergast shrugged. “To think about all the things I’d like to do, and _admit_ them.”

“Like what?” Bean asked.   
“Well, for one, I want to fuck you in that dress.”   
“Fine, if I get to fuck you in that uniform.”

He blinked in surprise, before standing up and smirking. “Deal.”   
In a matter of minutes, her legs were wrapped around his waist, his hands under her, supporting her, as he thrust in again and again and again to the tight, wet warmth. Her hands were still tangled in his hair, drawing him closer, as her skirts were hiked up around her waist.   
“_Yes_, don’t stop…!” She moaned into his shoulder.

“I want to hear you _scream_ my name.” He murmured in her ear, before biting her earlobe hard. “Scream for me, princess.”   
“F-fuck me harder, and I just might.” She replied, her eyes squeezed shut. His mouth dipped down to where her neck met her shoulder. 

His nails dug into her skin. Her hands moved down to his back, pulling him closer.  
“Yes, don’t stop!” She said.   
“Say my name.” He coaxed, thrusting harder and faster.   
She opened her eyes, giving him a mischievous smile. “But I don’t want it to end yet.”   
“I never said anything about it _ending_.” He growled, giving her a particularly hard thrust.

She bit her lip. “_Fuck_, Pen.”   
“Louder.” His hips rolled against hers, hitting a particularly sensitive spot.   
She leaned back, panting, as he continued.   
“Don’t stop—don’t stop…! _Pen_!”

“Good enough.” He said, scraping his teeth against her other earlobe. “Bed?”   
She nodded quickly. “Please—_agh_.”   
“Are you okay?” He asked.   
She nodded. “I just… bed. Now. On your back.”   
“Is that a royal order?”

“_Now_, Pen.” She growled. “My turn to have _my_ way with you.”   
They didn’t make it to the bed before she was on top of him, straddling his hips.   
“_Oh_, there we go.” She said, settling herself, before pinning him to the ground by his shoulders and smirking down at him.   
She moved her hips slightly, and he stifled a gasp.

“Now, since I made noise for you, it’s only fair you do the same for me.” She said.   
“Of course, princess.”   
She ground her hips against his, over and over, agonizingly slow. “You know, I’m not stupid. I know what it means when you call me ‘princess’ instead of my name.”   
“And what does it mean?” He asked.

She leaned down so their faces were near each other, inadvertently also giving him an eyeful of cleavage peeking out of her corset. “You use it as a petname when you’re thinking about fucking me.”   
“I hope I am, given the context.” He said, though he flushed slightly.

She grinned. “Look at me, Pen. “   
He raised his eye, and she began to ride him harder and faster. Despite her pinning him down, one of his hands still came to rest on her waist, stablising her as his hips bucked as a reaction.   
He ground his teeth, and she leaned forward again, just enough to ease her hips off of him slightly as she bit his neck.

He groaned.   
“That’s what I want to hear.” She muttered smugly.   
“I’m getting close.”   
“Tough. I’m not missing a _second_ of you inside me.” She whispered in his ear, before slamming her hips back down against his.   
“_Princess_.” Pendergast hissed through gritted teeth.

Bean smirked at him. “Yes, _sir_?”   
His hips bucked harder, and she closed her eyes, savoring the feeling.   
When it was over, she climbed off of him, collapsing next to him.   
“You know we have a bed right there?” Pendergast said, gently running a hand through her hair.

Bean slowly sat up. “Help me out of this dress.”   
“Only if you help me out of my uniform.”   
She did help him, more than he helped her, because he kept giving her kisses on the newly exposed skin as layer by layer was peeled away. Not that she stopped him.

They eventually climbed into bed together, and she gently pulled off his eyepatch, hanging it on a bedpost. “There.”   
He blinked at her, then blew out a lantern Della had left with them.   
“Mm, I’m not tired yet.” She muttered.

“Then tell me what you liked so much about my uniform.” He teased.   
She hooked her leg over his and laid her head on his chest. “Well… you know… ever since about a year ago when they were introduced and I walked into the courtyard to see you standing there, looking annoyed at something in that uniform… I kinda wanted to fuck you.”   
“No no no, it can’t be that easy.” Pendergast said.

Bean huffed. “I didn’t say I _loved_ you. I just said I lusted after you. Your uniform… you wear it well. It really accentuates your butt.”   
Pendergast poorly stifled a laugh. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve… lusted after you, to borrow your term, since your first wedding. At least, that’s when I noticed it. According to people I’ve asked, I had feelings for quite a while, I just didn’t realize.”

She snorted. “_Dork_.”   
“Your dork, Bean.”

“Aw, you didn’t say princess.”   
“Well, you figured out my secret.” He pressed a kiss to her hair.   
“…that’s why you wanted to fuck me in that dress though, isn’t it?”   
“Oh, definitely. It shows off certain… parts of your body better than your casualwear does.”

She sat up. “You—last time we had sex, you couldn’t bear to look at those _parts_!”   
“It’s very hard being honorable when you’re me.” Pendergast deadpanned.   
She plopped herself back down on him. “You mean you just compartmentalized it while I was gone and decided that you were dumb, and you do like looking at me after all.”   
“Oh no, I realized that almost immediately.”   
“You’re just bad at talking to women?”   
“You tell me.”

She paused for a minute, tracing patterns on his chest. “…you get better with situations once you have more experience with them. You get snarky if it’s something with the knights, but with me, you’re falling all over yourself to be this perfect, honorable knight.”   
“Is that so bad?” He asked softly. “Also, ouch. I did not expect you to get that deep that quickly.”  
“Yeah it is _so bad_, I don’t _want_ a knight from the stories. I want _you_, idiot. I want my snarky knight that sometimes looks the other way when I cause trouble because it’s someone else’s problem. I want you to argue with me when I’m wrong, and even more often when _you’re_ wrong, and we can butt heads over it. I love you, dumbass.”

“…why do all your love confessions include making it sound like I’ve done something wrong?” Pendergast wondered.   
She shrugged as best she could from her position. “I don’t know, but… I’m glad we’re just Bean and Pen.”   
“…you do realize I was _legitimately_ awkward around you, right?”   
She laughed. “Yeah, I kind of thought for a while that I just made your brain break with sex. I guess what you said earlier makes sense too, that you had time to _think_ about it…”   
“That sounds suspiciously like you want a repeat of what just happened.” Pendergast said slyly.

Bean grinned in the darkness, even if he couldn’t see it. “Maybe.”   
“You’re _insatiable_.”   
“I haven’t gotten laid in a month and a half either.” She pointed out.   
“Mmm… true.” Pendergast said, stifling a yawn.

“Seems to me like you’re kind of tired.” Bean teased.   
He kissed her forehead. “Well, it’s been a hard day’s riding.”   
“Oh my _God_, don’t make puns about that.” She stifled a laugh, before snuggling down.

They were both asleep in a matter of minutes, and Bean dreamed. She was looking into a mirror, brushing her hair, when the image… _changed_. Suddenly, the Bean brushing her hair _pushed_ again and the Bean in the mirror was sitting on the bed in her wedding dress. The older Bean—the Empress—crossed her arms. “Hello again.”   
“Hi.” Bean said. “Um, sorry to crash whatever you’re doing. Again.”

The Empress shrugged. “Well, if you’re going to hurt someone, Pen and the kids aren’t around.”   
“Wow, okay.” Bean stretched out on the bed. “...so… you’re me?”   
The Empress shrugged again. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re going to become someone else, that’s up to you. Time stuff is weird, and it never gets any less weird.”   
“Time stuff?”

“Time stuff.” The Empress agreed. “It’s, uh… it’s in your blood. Our blood. I don’t like to use it, but I’m guessing you don’t even _know_ you’re using it, which is worse. All roads lead back to Maru, though.”   
“How do I not use it?” Bean asked awkwardly.   
The Empress set her hairbrush down. “You need to use it intentionally first. You need to learn to control it, or… look, what happened to me was hard enough. I don’t think I’d be who I am now if Pen wasn’t there.”   
“That’s _really_ vague and unhelpful.” Bean huffed, before looking closer. “Have you been crying?”

The Empress crossed her arms. “No! …yes.”   
“What happened?” Bean asked softly.   
The Empress sighed. “…you look so young, it’s weird. You look like Addie.”   
“Are-are you deflecting?” Bean squinted at her.

The Empress cracked a grin, and stood up. “Is it that obvious?”   
“Yeah? What aren’t you telling me?” Bean huffed.   
“…which wedding are you dressed for?” The Empress replied.   
“Uh, the second one. Why?”

“Spoilers. You know how Pen faked his death, kind of?” The Empress huffed.   
“Yeah.”   
“He walked into his own fucking funeral, bleeding out, and just…” The Empress shook her head. “We have kids now. He can’t pull this shit.”   
“I’m just glad he’s alive.”

“Yeah? That’s what I thought too. Then we never talked about it, and it weighed on me.” The Empress shook her head. “And now I’m even more mad. It’s—it’s fucked up.”   
“Caring about someone?”   
The Empress snorted. “Yeah, that too. I meant the whole situation though.”   
Bean bit her lip. “Kinda, I guess… is he okay?”

The Empress nodded. “He’s fine. He’s currently in the infirmary with the doctor. I was… I am… mad at him. Furious. It’s not even his fault.”   
“Would you still be mad if he wasn’t okay?” Bean asked softly.   
The Empress wiped at her eyes. “No. I’m… I don’t know. I’m glad he’s fine. I don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s such an idiot sometimes.”

Bean snorted. “Yeah? Even I know that, and I’ve been married to him about a day, and not however long you have.”   
“Twenty years.” The Empress said. “He ages well, by the way.”   
“Pft, I mean, yeah, so do I.” Bean winked at the Empress.

The Empress grinned. “No, as in, gray streaks through his hair make him about twice as hot.”   
“It’s only been about twenty years, how is he already going gray?” Bean asked.   
“He’s under a lot of stress. I try to relieve it as much as I can.” The Empress gave her a sly smile, and they high-fived.   
“My Pen would say that I cause all the stress.” Bean laughed.

The Empress smiled wryly. “Mine would have said the same, for a while. Probably still would if pushed, even when it’s the other way around.”   
“You’re still hung up on that, huh?” Bean kicked out her legs thoughtfully. “What do you want from him?”   
“I want… I want him to promise he’ll never do it again.” The Empress swallowed. “I want him to stay safe and I don’t want to lose him. I want to scream at him for scaring me like that _again_.”   
“I guess I can’t really help with that.” Bean admitted.

The Empress cracked another grin. “Nah, I guess not. You’ve kind of got the same problem.”   
Bean twisted the fabric of her dress in her hands. She was about to say something when there were footsteps in the corridor, and suddenly Bean felt _pushed_ again, back through to her own time, waking up next to Pendergast, gasping. Immediately, he bolted upright. “What? Are we under attack? Where’s my sword?”

Bean pulled him back down. “We’re fine, it was just a weird dream. …don’t fake your death again, okay? It’s not… don’t do that to me.”   
“It wasn’t intentional.”   
“Still, try.” Bean huffed.   
He ran a hand through her hair. “Is that a royal order?”   
“Yes.”   
“Then I shall do my utmost best. I love you, Bean.”

“I love you too, dork.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! If you're one of the three people reading this, you probably already know that God tried to nerf me SEVERAL times today. For those not in the loop, no, I'm not dying, but my computer might be. Sometimes it turns itself off intermittently, sometimes it _erases files from my online backup_ sometimes it tries to make me pay 69.95 USD for a document recovery service that may or may not actually be able to find AGF's files in my computer, and sometimes it decides that no, I _don't_ need that browser window open, and if I argue that, it will turn my screen black and become unresponsive. 
> 
> Anyway, this was the chapter that my computer apparently didn't want you to read, partially rewritten. Updates may be slower in the coming days (rip) because I also have schoolwork and downtime was previously used on writing the modern AU that's coming out after AGF is done.


	32. They never got breakfast :(

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to TheVoidLooksBack, without whom the scene at the end wouldn't exist!

They woke up that morning, and it seemed like there was a light-source in the wall, about where the sun would be at nine am.  
“I guess it’s time to get up.” Pendergast said.  
“D’you think you can help me put that dress back on?” Bean asked.

“I can definitely try.” Pendergast replied. It took a while—longer than it took for his uniform, which was designed for a single man to put on by himself. He pulled on her corset strings, but instead, she just tumbled into his arms.  
“Smooth.” She laughed. “It’ll be fine, it’s not like my boobs are going to fall off.”

“Fair enough. …don’t know how you managed to get it on properly in the first place.” Pendergast muttered.  
“That was Bunty.” Bean said, grabbing his hand and leading him out the door.  
“Was it also Bunty’s idea for you not to have underthings?”  
“Yeah? According to her, they’re for whores.”

They reached the downstairs area, and Pendergast took the lead, partially because Bean was obviously distracted by more portraits of Lynette, and the light was on in the parlor again.  
Della was sitting on her couch, with an untouched pot of tea in front of her, and one solitary teacup.  
“What’s that smell?” Bean asked, crinkling her nose.  
Della gestured to the teapot. “Wild carrot seed—I’ve made it into tea. For you.”  
“Oh. Thanks…” Bean said slowly.

Della pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s a contraceptive.”  
“_Oh_.” Bean replied. “Um… Pen…?”  
Pendergast was flushing and looking away, his hand covering his mouth. “…we haven’t really discussed it, Grandmother.”  
“Then drink it now, and _discuss_ it later.” Della huffed. “Oh, I know what you’re thinking. ‘Nothing’s going to happen, it was just the one night. It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t worry.’ I had those thoughts once, and nine months later, I turned up on his grandfather’s doorstep hysterical with a baby. Ironically, it was the night before he was supposed to get married as well.”  
  


“That… is a great story.” Bean said, glancing at Pendergast, then sitting down on the couch.  
“We’re married anyway, it’s not like… that.” Pendergast pointed out, slowly joining her.  
Della raised an eyebrow. “Oh? That’s what my dear sweet daughter said. Also _immediately_ got pregnant. Your brother didn’t kill her. You didn’t kill her either. …but it’s a gamble every time, and you should be a lot more prepared than your parents were. ‘Ah’, you’re thinking. ‘But I’m not like him, we’re not like them.’ Well, they were happy once too, but an unexpected child can put a lot of stress on things.”  
Pendergast practically shoved the teacup at Bean, and she shot Della a dark look.

“Don’t use that stuff against him.” Bean snapped.  
Della drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. “How much do you know about my daughter and her husband?”  
“Enough to know that Pen’s not him, and I’m not her, and you’re going to scare him so bad that he never even wants to _have_ kids.”  
Della leaned back. “…you have a point. You and Lynette are clearly two _very_ different people. She was soft where you’re hard, light where you’re dark. No, you’re more like me, aren’t you? Alright, then. Do you think you’re prepared for a small creature that needs you? I wasn’t.”

“That’s not the problem.”  
“I rather think it is. Drink the tea, Tiabeanie of Dreamland, and then you and my grandson can discuss to your heart’s desire whether or not he can be a father, never having had a proper one, and whether you can be a mother when I couldn’t.”  
“_Please_ don’t turn this into a spite thing, she’ll have a baby just to spite you.” Pendergast finally interrupted.  
“Yeah!” Bean said. “Also, stop saying such awful things in front of or to Pen! He’s going to be a great father—probably better than mine!”

Della watched her for a minute before sliding the teapot towards Bean. “Foolish child, can’t you see I’m doing this for you? For both of you? You should have the time to get to know each other in the new roles of husband and wife before someone new enters the family unit. You’re so stubborn.”  
“Yeah? So are you!” Bean huffed.  
“Yes, but I’m actually stubborn for a good reason!” Della growled. “You won’t like the tea better cold, child.”

“And I won’t like you as Pen’s grandmother better until you stop being such an epic _bitch_.”  
The only sound in the room was Pendergast inhaling sharply through his teeth.  
“You are a foolish child, and you don’t know what you’re saying, so I’ll forgive that.” Della said in a low voice. “But I thought we had a conversation last night about you crossing me? You’re _so_ lucky that any of your children would be my blood, or the fate I’d have in store for them…”  
“I thought you didn’t want us to _have_ kids.” Bean huffed.

“Clearly I can’t stop you.” Della scoffed. “So, since I don’t trust you and you don’t trust me, if you ever have any children that _aren’t_ related to me by blood—I don’t care the reasoning behind it, if he died and you remarried or anything less honorable—they’ll choke to death on their own blood before they’re five years old, and any flowers you place on their graves will never live, always withering to a crisp like your gratitude for my hospitality.”  
“_Grandmother_.” Pendergast said, horrified.

Della shrugged. “What, boy? This won’t happen to _your_ children. If it _does_ happen, perhaps your little princess wasn’t as faithful or wonderful as you believe her to be. It might never happen if you’re right and I’m wrong. Drink the tea, or don’t, Tiabeanie. I honestly don’t care about trying to argue common sense into you anymore. You’ll only throw it back into my face, like the rest of my kindnesses.”  
“Well, joke’s on you, ‘cause your curse is never going to come true.” Bean huffed.

“Oh, poor me, you’ll either refrain from polluting the world with yourself entirely, or only carry on my family line.” Della smiled sharply.  
There was a knock at the door, and Della rose from the couch.  
“Okay, _don’t_ tell her about this.” Bean said to Pendergast, before pouring herself a cup of tea and shotgunning it.

“Hello, Della!” A man said brightly from the hallway.  
“Oh Dear God, I have enough to deal with without _you_.” Della snapped. “Unless you’re the source of all my ills, in which case, take them _back_.”  
“Unfortunately, I have no such responsibility—”  
Della slammed the door so hard that the windows shook.

A slim, blond man appeared where Della had been sitting. He had blond hair under a flat cap that was sitting at an odd angle, and black eyes with no sclera or iris. He was wearing a green suit, and when he crossed his legs it was obvious that he had delicate cloven hooves instead of feet.  
“Hello, you two.” The Devil said. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

Bean threw her teacup at him. The Devil ducked just in time, clearly surprised. “Wait wait wait—”  
That was when Della re-entered, set her mouth, then left. Pendergast swore later he could have heard her mutter, “Maybe they’ll kill each other and I’ll be rid of them.”  
The Devil, meanwhile, retreated behind the couch. “Wait, I’m here to apologize!”

“I’m listening.” Bean said, though she had taken off a shoe, presumably also to throw at him.  
“So, I’m sorry about maybe, _possibly_ taking over your father’s mind on one _small_ issue so that you would marry Hans.”  
“But you’re not sorry about Hans.” Bean said.  
The Devil winced as the shoe whistled past his head, knocking off his hat to reveal two very small horns. “I… Hans is a different issue altogether. I don’t control him. I don’t really control anyone.”

“Didn’t you just say that you controlled Zog?” Pendergast deadpanned.  
“…okay, right, fair.” The Devil replied.  
He slowly raised his head from behind the sofa, and the other shoe went flying at him.

“Stop, I already apologized!”  
“You haven’t even _begun_ to apologize.” Bean snapped. Pendergast handed her a knife tucked into her belt.  
The Devil sighed, and held his hands up. “Truce? Truce? Please, let’s just talk like civilized people.”

“Why’re you so scared anyway?” Bean huffed. “Aren’t you immortal?”  
The Devil hopped over the couch. “…well, yes, but I don’t want to test the limits of that. It’s… not in the way you think. You know what you are, right?”  
“A luck-child?” Bean tried.  
“Oh God, that too?” The Devil winced. “Yeah, you could definitely draw blood on me. No, but… the blood of an Old God means you could kill me. I’m not… eager to test it out.”

“So you better start apologizing.” Bean said, pointing the knife at him.  
Pendergast gazed up at her dreamily.  
The Devil frowned. “It’s… Tiabeanie, I can no more apologize for my nature than anyone else. I am the villain. I throw obstacles in the way, but they’re meant to be thwarted.”

“You’re not the villain of this story—you just showed up.” Bean pointed out.  
“No, I mean, I’m _the _Villain, of all stories. They all link back to me—that’s my power, controlling little threads like Hans. Did I hope that you’d marry him so that you’d have easily controllable, far more human offspring? Yes. Am I going to push it now, when you could hurt me, and every story by extension, by cutting out the Villain? No.”  
“This isn’t some story.” Pendergast said.

The Devil shook his head. “No, you’re not thinking big enough. Everything’s a story. Every life, every song, everything has a story. We’re a world of stories, built and layered on top of each other so quickly that characters in them can tell.”  
“Like Luci said.” Pendergast muttered.  
The Devil brightened. “Exactly! Where is he?”

“He’s a _cat_, and you also need to apologize for that!” Bean dropped onto the couch next to Pendergast.  
The Devil blinked at her. “A cat? What…?”  
“He mentioned the Levan Tseretili incident.” Pendergast explained.  
“Oh. That’s not my doing. At least not now.” The Devil shrugged. “And I don’t foresee a demon rebellion in my story because of measures like that.”

“By the way, what was that stuff about our kids?” Bean demanded.  
The Devil leaned back. “Surely you know they’ll be… powerful. Here’s the thing. No one exactly _knows_ what they’ll become, because someone with the blood of an Old God and someone with Fae blood have never… well, they’re almost natural enemies. I’m sure you’ve seen how on edge Della has been around you.”  
“Bitchy, you mean.” Bean agreed.

The Devil winced. “You didn’t say that to her face, did you?”  
“She did.” Pendergast confirmed.  
The Devil winced again. “…and what’d she do?”  
“Curse me to have my children die if they’re not Pen’s.”  
“Oh, that’s not an issue.” The Devil said, relaxing. “Della can get… tunnel vision when she gets angry.”  
“How do _you_ know her?” Pendergast asked.

The Devil shrugged. “Well, have you heard the story of Tam Lin? I was going to have a tithe, but they gave me… someone who clearly hadn’t been prepared for the situation. Like there’d been a last minute switch out. Della, angry on behalf of Medb, filled me in on the situation, hoping I’d take revenge on Tam Lin and Janet when Medb couldn’t.”  
Bean narrowed her eyes at him. “What did you mean, ‘that’s not an issue’? What do you know?”

The Devil shrugged again. “Well, I did some preliminary research on your stories.” He withdrew a pack of cards from his suit, and began shuffling quickly. “The stories branch out with different consequences, but you’re not going to stray from each other’s sides.” He dealt out three cards, then slowly turned them over. The first depicted the older Bean and, as she’d said, a magnificently graying Pendergast. They smiled at each other, Pendergast’s hand on her face.

The second depicted a wartorn scene, with Bean on horseback with three smaller figures in front of her, while Pendergast raised a sword in the foreground to fight off some unseen enemy. The third showed Bean on a throne, smiling wickedly. The only indication of Pendergast’s presence was the glint of steel behind her.

As quickly as the Devil had dealt the cards, he swept them back into his hand again.  
“What was that?” Bean asked.  
“Futures. Possible futures—nothing’s really set in stone.” The Devil shrugged. “Well, I mean, _some_ things are. All paths lead back to Maru, Tiabeanie.”  
“What?” Bean said, jolted back to the memory of the dream before.

The Devil smiled enigmatically. “You’ve heard it before, haven’t you? It’s up to you two who you become, but know this—the Empress and the Executioner are the kind of people who would kill me with little regard for the consequences. And there _would_ be consequences—the stories might fall apart, for one, or you might have to take my place. I don’t know.”  
“You’ve said.” Pendergast remarked drily. “What does this have to do with future children?”

The Devil sighed, and dealt out four new cards. These had traditional card markings on them when he flipped them. The first had a woman in armor, surrounded by blue, apparently the Queen of Clubs. She had a ginger-brown braid over her shoulder, and her blue eyes were narrowed in distaste at something in the distance.

“Emma Lynette… well, the surnames change.” The Devil said, tapping the card. “Almost always follows her father’s examples and principles, a perfect little soldier. I don’t worry about her too much—if she were to tap into the power in her blood, because there are several, she’d be most likely to draw against the power of the Old God. But I don’t think she would. More likely to raise a sword than the seas.”

He flipped the next card. It showed a young man with snow white hair dressed as some sort of blacksmith, obviously using some kind of forge given all the red around him. He was the Ace of Hearts. He had goggles perched on his head that seemed custom-made for him, and soot everywhere on his face, except around his brown eyes. He was grinning at something in front of him, even if his parents couldn’t see what it was.

“Alfred Lucian.” The Devil grinned. “That one’s a troublemaker, but I wouldn’t worry. He’s still principled, even when you two aren’t. He’s bright, and some of his work is infused with a bit of magic, but it’s mostly residual from Dagmar’s side of the family. It’s… infernal, a bit, but he’s not using it for wickedness. He’s contrary to the point of being the best one when the Empress and the Executioner are in power, but impish when it’s… well, Bean and Pen.”

His hand hovered over the next card, but then he moved onto the fourth card. It was a young man who looked so much like Pendergast that Bean’s eyes widened. The young man was writing something down in a journal, up a tree, and was designated the Jack of Diamonds.

“Arthur Alphonse. A gentle, quiet boy, about ten years younger than his siblings.” The Devil said. “…he mostly leans towards Della’s residual magic, if at all. He’s a loner, but deeply tied to his family. He just wants to make his parents proud… usually is never seen again after a certain point in the Empress and Executioner timeline, but ah, spoilers, you still haven’t made up your minds as to what kind of people you are.”

“I think we have.” Pendergast snapped.  
The Devil pursed his lips “…no. No, you haven’t, because nothing is set in stone except for… well, a few things, really. But do you want to know why I’m worried? It’s not because of Emma, or Alfred, or Arthur.”

He finally flipped the third card. It depicted the red, blue, and green of the other three, but in the centre, there was a woman. Above her were emblazoned the word ‘JOKER’, marking her the wild card of the deck. Her white hair drifted around her, as the card _shifted_ through several portraits, unlike the others which remained static. In the first one, she was laughing as she spun in a pink dress. The second, scowling tensely into a mirror, and the third, sneering down at something as energy formed into her hands.

“Adelaide Lavinia.” The Devil said flatly. “Alfred’s twin sister. Just as dangerous, just as smart, far more worrying. You named her after the two more cantankerous grandmothers—you could have named her for Rhoswyn Griffiths, or Inge de la Rochambeau, but no—and she embodies the spirit of both, with a dash of Dagmar’s magic resurfacing. I worry about you killing me, I’m _terrified_ of her destroying all stories. She has the magic, she has the resourcefulness, and she can have the will. If I could do _anything_ to ensure against her conception, I would, but that would likely end up being a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“What do you suggest?” Bean asked, slowly raising the knife.  
Pendergast pushed her hand down again.  
“Nothing. Yet. But if she… you may have to kill her.” The Devil sighed.  
“Out of the question.” Pendergast snapped, removing his hand from Bean’s so that she could raise the knife again.  
“I’m not saying at birth, or anything! Just… if she begins to turn down that path.”  
“Wouldn’t we also be evil?” Bean scoffed.  
“…not always.” The Devil said softly. “Sometimes she just… she’s unpredictable, and it never ends well in stories trying to predict such a thing.”

“What about Luci?” Bean asked.  
“I already told you—”  
“Yeah, yeah, not your fault. Whatever. You could… _fix_ him, and then he’ll be her sort of guardian angel, okay? Watch out for her, make sure she doesn’t turn evil, and if she does…” Bean hugged herself, and Pendergast wrapped an arm around her.  
“…well, it could certainly work.” The Devil mused. “…but I’m not going to do it until she’s actually born. He needs to learn a lesson, and that lesson won’t be learned if it’s been… what, a few months? No, he’ll have to wait four more years.”

“Why four?” Pendergast asked.  
The Devil counted on his fingers. “...the twins are due a month before his birthday, so he’ll be… and she’ll be… yeah, roughly four years until the twins are born, unless you two move up your scheduling.”  
“Where would we be raising these children? We can’t stay here forever.” Bean pointed out.  
“Oh, no, Della will probably try to kill you soon if you don’t get off her property, family or not.” The Devil agreed.

“What happened to ‘all paths lead back to Maru’?” Pendergast asked.  
“Well, they do, but you’re not done with Dreamland yet. Oh! That reminds me, Zog’s free of my influence. And I have a present.” The Devil dealt out a final card, this one silvery and shimmery.  
“What is it?” Bean asked warily.  
“A boon. A one-time free wish—ah, usual wish restrictions apply. No wishing for someone to be alive that’s not… you know, freshly dead. No wishing for more wishes. No wishing for something that affects the story too deeply, like asking for your child to not be evil.” The Devil listed off.

“Never heard that one before.” Pendergast remarked drily.  
Bean stared at the card. “…Luci said my mom’s not dead.”  
“Oh no.” The Devil muttered. “I mean, you technically can, but… oh no.”  
Bean ignored him, and looked at Pendergast. “Do you… do you mind if I…?”  
He shook his head. “I spent my whole life wishing for my mother back. I’m not going to deny you the chance for yours.”

Bean kissed him, then ripped the card in half. The Devil looked pale as the card turned to dust in her hands, then swept towards the door, and presumably towards Dreamland.  
“Well, I’m going to take this as my cue to leave before this day gets any worse.” The Devil said brightly, gathering his deck of cards. “Last time I felt this nauseous about decisions, I had just whisked a farmer’s wife off to Hell. Side note, I will not take wives, mothers in law, etc. on request anymore.”

“I don’t want you to.” Pendergast snapped.  
“You might.” Della scoffed from the doorway.  
“How long have you been eavesdropping?” The Devil demanded.

Della shrugged. “The entire time. …I will accept them naming the child for me as penance for her rudeness.”  
“_Penance_?” Bean repeated, narrowing her eyes.  
Pendergast swept her up into his arms bridal style, and stood. “Well, grandmother, thank you so much for having us, but I think we need to be going now.”  
“Wait, I don’t want to get stuck a week after yesterday!” Bean said, shifting but not struggling too much.  
“You won’t.” Della snarled, before looking at The Devil. “Fix my house.”

“Ah, well… it’ll probably be fixed when the tetherer… leaves.” The Devil shrugged.  
Della nodded. “Goodbye, Pendergast Llewellyn Griffiths. Feel free to visit without your wife.”  
“Hey—” Pendergast began, but unfortunately, he and Bean immediately found themselves in the stable, Carrots already saddled and ready to go.  
“Your grandmother’s kinda rude, Pen.” Bean said, snuggling up against him.  
“Yeah.” Pendergast sighed, slowly letting her down.

“Hey, I wasn’t done.” She looked up at him with a grin.  
“I need the knife back.” Pen said. “I don’t want to get stabbed—and you don’t want to stab me, right?”  
“Nah.” Bean grinned, handing him the knife. He sheathed it, then helped her up, before swinging up himself. All the gates were open—as if something had already blown through, opening them.

Their journey back was fairly uneventful, though Pendergast had one hand on the reins and the other encircling his wife’s waist, pulling her tightly to him.  
“Not done yet, huh?” She laughed, without turning around.  
“Mm… not yet, no.” Pendergast rested his head on her shoulder.

“_Now_ who’s ‘insatiable’?”  
“Are my advances unwanted, princess?” He nipped at her earlobe.  
“Never.” Bean twisted to grin at him.  
“Then maybe we both are.” Pendergast purred, his mouth moving down to her neck.

Unfortunately, that was when the Dreamland knights burst out of the shrubbery.  
Edgar lurched forward. “You _motherfucker_—do you have any idea what it’s like, sleeping out here?”  
“Actually, yes.” Pendergast replied. “I think you should leave.”  
Edgar threw his hands in the air. “And say _what_? We were ordered to bring back your bodies if nothing else—the pig with the crown said something about her having a tendency to fall off of stuff, which is _bullshit_ because she lives in a fucking tower—”

“Language, Edgar.” Pendergast huffed.  
“Please just come home sir.” Mortimer said. “We’ll say you were bewitched or something.”  
“That’s not really going to work.” Bean snapped. “Why don’t you guys just...” She trailed off, because slowly, people were beginning to rise out of the bushes. Princes, specifically.

“Do you need direc… oh shit, it’s you.” One of the princes stared up at Carrots in horror, and it wasn’t very clear who he was talking about.  
Edgar waved his hands. “Don’t you see, Pendergast?! You’ve become the very thing you’ve sworn to destroy! Married to the princess!”  
The princes looked very much like they wanted to say something, but thought better of it.

“I’m also off-duty, and these four are tired.” Pendergast said. “…If someone were to cross the border, I’m sure it’d be hard to stop them.”  
The wheels were obviously turning in the princes’ heads.  
“If you harass me, I’m going to kill you though.” Bean crossed her arms. “I’ve done it before.”

The wheels turned more. “Are you cursed?”  
“Uh, technically, but eh?” Bean shrugged.  
“Any haunted castles nearby?”  
“Nope.”  
One of the princes scratched his chin thoughtfully. “This is going to sound insane, but I think she’s just a normal princess. Not the kind that we need to bother.”

“Wait, what?” Mortimer asked. “I’m totally confused.”  
“_But_ we also haven’t had alcohol or beds since Trærbukt.” Another mused. “So… yeah, honestly, I think we should just make a run for the border.”  
“What?!” Edgar demanded. “No! Stay! Stop!”

The princes didn’t listen to him.  
“You know, I technically haven’t been relieved of duty.” Pendergast was grinning wickedly now. “And I think you should follow them, lest they cause _serious_ damage. After all, what are _we_ going to do?”  
“You could—actually, you probably already did.” Mortimer trailed off. “She was in his room that one time…”  
Edgar looked like he was going to have an aneurysm. “Fine! Fine! I’m not going to be the one to swing the fucking sword if it comes down to it, though! As far as the king’s concerned, we never saw them—now how the _fuck_ do we stop that horde?”

Pendergast shrugged. “Like I said, I’m off-duty.”  
Edgar glared at him, and raised two fingers. “Motherf… you better come take your job back, I sure as hell don’t want it. Also, how the fuck do you two look so well-rested after a night in the woods?”  
“We moisturize.” Bean said brightly. “And yeah, you guys should go do your jobs. Now.”  
Edgar glared at her, before charging off the way they’d came with the other knights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Della's scary. 
> 
> The description of the Devil is from 'The Devil and the Three Golden Hairs', 'Bearskin', a bit from 'The Devil went Down to Georgia', and from Alexander James' rendition of 'The Devil and the Farmer' (before he transitioned). That's also the story about the farmer's wife that the Devil refers to at the end of his visit, where he says he absolutely will not take a man's wife. Why? Because they'll kick his ass.


	33. Epilogue

Pendergast Llewellyn Griffiths had been called many things in his life. More insults than he cared to count, in English, Spanish, Welsh, and Maruvian. (At least, he assumed some of those were insults.) He had titles—Prince Consort, Lord Commander, blah blah blah. He didn’t really care. General descriptors numbered among them as well—the eye thing wasn’t as clever as people thought. He’d heard it all before.

There were a few he treasured. ‘Penny’, by his older brother, back when they’d been on good terms. ‘Machgen’, by his mother, before she’d died. ‘Papa’, by Emma, but his favorite thing to be called was ‘Pen’, by his wife, usually accompanied by a grin. God, he loved her.

Which is why it physically hurt him to be outside with the cat and the elf and his precious daughter as his wife screamed. Emma was largely unconcerned—everyone had told her that everything would be fine, and at three, she had no reason to doubt her father. He was her hero—if he said that Bean would be okay, she would.

“Story, Papa.” Emma tugged on his pant leg, interrupting his pacing.  
“Yeah, give us a story.” The cat said, clearly on edge as well.  
Pendergast sat down cross-legged in front of his daughter. “Alright, what kind of story do you want to hear?”  
“Knights!” Obviously.

“Was it this bad last time?” Elfo muttered to Luci. “I don’t think it was…”  
Pendergast didn’t either, but he wouldn’t dare voice that in front of Emma. She was going to be okay.  
“Hmm… what about Bedwyr Bedraydant and the sword?”  
Emma nodded, and Pendergast began at the end of the Arthurian cycle.

“Sir Mordred, the wicked son of Arthur’s sister Morganna, had stolen King Arthur’s magical sword, Caledfwlch, before the battle he was to have with Arthur.” Pendergast began. “Arthur eventually regained it, but was mortally wounded in battle.”  
Emma gasped, despite having already known this.

“Most of King Arthur’s knights also died, including the wicked Mordred.” Pendergast said solemnly. “Only Sir Bedwyr Bedraydant remained in a hale condition, for his skill was beyond that of other knights.”  
“I thought Lancelot was the best knight.” Luci interrupted.  
“Lancelot’s a monk.” Emma said, beating Pendergast to it.

“Yeah, but I thought he was the best knight before that.” Luci said, stretching.  
“He wasn’t at the battle.” Pendergast deadpanned, before turning back to the story. “Bedwyr found his king, and begged to help him. But Arthur knew his time had come.”  
The mood immediately dropped, and Pendergast pressed on.  
“But I thought Caledfwch’s scabbard cured injuries.” Emma said around her hand. Pendergast gently pulled it out of her mouth.

“Ah, but Mordred had stolen that as well. Arthur regained the sword, but not the scabbard.” Pendergast said.  
Emma nodded.  
Silence fell, and no one was sure if that was good or not.

Pendergast pressed on. “So Arthur begged Bedwyr to take Caledfwch back to the Lady of the Lake who had given it to him so many years before. Bedwyr took the sword, and left for a bit, then decided that he should keep the sword to honor Arthur’s legacy. He hid it, and returned to Arthur.

‘What happened when you threw the sword in?’ Arthur asked.  
‘Nothing.’ Replied Bedwyr.  
Arthur said, ‘You lie. Throw the sword in the lake.’ He sent Bedwyr away again.”

A baby’s wail pierced the silence. Elfo began to move, but Pendergast glanced at Luci and shook his head. They weren’t done yet.  
“Bedwyr thought to himself that Caledfwch was a fine sword, and deserved better than to rot and rust in a lake. Again, he hid the sword, and again he returned to Arthur, claiming to have done it. Arthur asked what had happened, and Bedwyr said again that nothing had happened. Arthur coughed wetly, and told him again to throw it in, please, for his king. This time, Bedwyr did as he was asked, and threw in the sword. As it arced over the water, a white hand rose up and caught it. It disappeared without a trace, and Bedwyr returned and told Arthur. Content, Arthur died, and Bedwyr retired to a hermitage.”

“That was a sad story.” Luci said. “Weirdly sad. Are all your stories like this?”  
“No.” Pendergast glanced towards the closed door.  
“You are _such_ a bummer.” Luci said, stretching out. There was a blinding light that suddenly surrounded him, and the smell of sulfur.  
Emma screamed as the smoke cleared and the fluffy cat was gone. In his place was the demon that he had been before the last five years.

Luci slowly stood up. “What just…?”  
“Papa, where’s Luci?” Emma wept.  
Pendergast gathered her into a hug. “It’s okay, you’re okay, he’s just different now. Back to what he looked like before you were born.”  
“Change him _back_.” Emma sobbed into his shoulder.

Luci looked deeply conflicted. “Hey, now I can hold things and… fuck, Elfo, I need to become a cat again.”  
“Language.” Pendergast said absent-mindedly, rubbing soothing circles into his daughter’s back.  
“I don’t know how you can be a cat again!” Elfo said.

“Well, Emma’s crying and Bean’s dying and I need to fix this!” Luci was in full panic mode now.  
“Mama’s _dying_?!” Emma shrieked.  
“No no no no, Luci’s just being silly.” Pen glared at Luci even as he tried to soothe Emma. “He can be very silly now since he has hands.”  
“The nightmare has returned.” Elfo muttered to himself.

That was when the midwife opened the door, and Pendergast got to his feet.  
“What happened to the cat?” The midwife asked, looking at Luci.  
“He’s got anxiety.” Pendergast replied quickly. “How’s my wife?”  
“She’s had twins!” The midwife beamed. “Don’t worry about the blood.”

“That’s a terrifying thing to say, wow.” Elfo said, as Pendergast strode past him and Luci into the room. The midwife had learned the hard way last time that he _would_ go see his wife after the birth, even if the rules said no. It was a stupid rule anyway, which amused Bean to no end.

“Mama?” Emma asked softly, pulling away from Pendergast’s shoulder to look around. There was blood, yes, but just a bit more than last time, and Bean had two bundles in her arms.  
“Hey, Pen.” Bean said tiredly, though she cracked a smile.  
Pendergast put Emma down next to her, and she approached the bundles with interest.

Bean laughed. “Hey, bug.”  
“Hey, Mama. Are you dying?”  
“Nah, Hell wouldn’t have me.”  
“_Bean_.” Pendergast said, fondly exasperated.

Bean grinned at him, then lowered the bundles onto her lap so that Emma could see. “That’s your brother, Alfred. And that’s your sister, Adelaide.”  
“Luci’s not a cat.” Emma replied.  
Bean shrugged, before handing Pen one of the bundles, and settling the other one back in her arms. Pendergast looked at the bundle—Alfred, he had a name—and sat down at the edge of the bed.

Emma crawled over to look at him. “They’re so red and small.”  
“So were you when you were born.” Pendergast told her.  
“When can they play with me?” Emma asked.  
“Not for a while, bug.” Bean said. “Guess you gotta make do with Elfo and Luci for now.”  
“But, you also need to protect Alfred and Adelaide and show them right from wrong. Set a good example.” Pendergast added.

“Like a knight.” Emma nodded.  
“No, like a big sister.” Bean grimaced.  
Emma nodded again, and leaned over to look at Alfred. “I will make sure no one hurts you, or kidnaps you, or tells you that Lancelot is the best knight.”  
Bean laughed, and Pendergast cracked a smile.  
“What’s wrong with Lancelot?” Bean asked.

“He behaved inappropriately with the queen.” Pendergast said.  
Bean’s smile grew. “And that’s a terrible thing, my knight?”  
“You know what I mean.” Pendergast said, fighting a blush.

Emma looked between her parents. “What’s so funny?”  
“Nothing, _blodyn tatws.”_ Pendergast said. “Why don’t you go and find something else to do? Your mother needs rest.”  
“Okay.” Emma wasn’t going to push it. Her hero was busy, but there would be other people in the training yard for her to watch.

“Cute, but I’m in no shape for you to call me princess.” Bean winked at Pendergast, before yawning.  
“I wasn’t going to.” Pendergast rolled his eye. “I _was_ going to ask if you were going to have a wet nurse this time though.”  
“No. They’re _my_ babies.” Bean huffed.  
Pendergast had learned his lesson from the last time. “Alright, I’ll shoulder more duties with the kingdom until you’re ready.”

“You’re better at paperwork anyway.” Bean said.  
Pendergast shrugged. “Fair, but you’re better with actual people. …speaking of which, do you want me to tell Luci why he’s a demon again?”  
“Nothing’s going to happen to her.” Bean’s arms tightened around Adelaide.

“No, but to ensure that, he should be looking out for her as well.” Pendergast said. “Just to give him a reason why this happened, and so that… _he_ doesn’t rescind it.”  
Bean scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of _that_ nerd.”  
“He is the literal Devil.” Pendergast pointed out.  
“And he spent most of the last time we saw him cowering behind the couch.” Bean shrugged. “We’ve got this, Pen.”

He smiled at her. “Okay, if you’re sure. …you must be tired.”  
She yawned again. “You can’t tell?”  
“Do you want a bedtime story?”  
“I’m not Emma, Pen.”

“I know.”  
“…hit me.”  
He settled himself on the bed, and began. “The port authority says that imports are up by 10%, and that exports are up by 25—”  
Bean burst out laughing. “Are you trying to get me to fall asleep with facts and a soothing voice?”  
“Is it working?” Pendergast replied.

“…I guess you can keep trying.”  
He inclined his head. “Thank you, my queen, for your graciousness.”  
“Asshole. Stop making me laugh, it hurts.”  
Pendergast closed his eye, and began again in the soothing voice. “Jadis province reports a surplus of grain, which I’ve already rerouted to help with the effects of drought in Aretu. Coal mines in Grette are running low, but they’ve also begun to strike various other ores—the main mine, for instance, found a vein of tin.”  
“I love you so much, Pen.” Bean said sleepily.  
“I love you too, Bean.” He lifted her free hand to his mouth and gave it a gentle kiss. She smiled softly, before finally giving in to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caledfwch is the Welsh name for Excalibur. Bedwyr Bedrayant is... well, sir Bedivere. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you guys so much for reading this. It was so much fun to write, and I hope that you enjoyed it! I might write a sequel for it one day, might not, let's see where the wind takes it. I'm not sure if it's as popular as tVoN anyway, haha. 
> 
> If you want to read another one of my stories, click the link to the next AU in 'Follow the Spokes of the Wheel'-- the next one is an unrelated modern au, and I'm really happy about it! I hope that you guys enjoy it too!

**Author's Note:**

> We'll meet the guy Pendergast is talking about next chapter. Any idea which story I pulled him from?  
'The Blue Light' is the one they're referring to when they talk about the princess of Kirschen, and if you read it from the princess's point of view, it's... terrifying. No wonder a bulletin was sent out to neighbouring kingdoms about this weird guy.
> 
> This one might have the historical elements of TVoN (if you haven't read it, you should!) but will lean more into the fairy tale element.  
I took a bit of the characterization of Sir Edgar the Fearless from 'Love for Dipshits' by taffee23, you should really check it out! It's my favorite multi-chaptered Beandergast fic! :D


End file.
